Brotherhood Bonds
by UThnkUrFunny IThnkImAdorable
Summary: AU Sequel to True Brotherhood. When John goes missing, it's up to Sam and Dean to find him. But the thing that took him actually wants something else... Limp!Hurt!Sam, Protective!Hurt!Dean. Some innuendos of extreme abuse Sam suffered earlier.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: If I owned Supernatural, Sam and Dean would never be allowed to wear shirts  
**

**Dean is 21, almost 22. Sam is 17. (NOT WINCEST!!!)**

**Okay, I obviously chose to do a sequel.**

**_IF YOU HAVEN'T READ TRUE BROTHERHOOD, I SUGGEST YOU DO! OTHERWISE THIS FIC WILL MAKE NO SENSE!_  
**

**This takes place four years later. I had a LOT of trouble trying to make their personalities just right. So if you notice any inconsistencies or think anything is unrealistic PLEASE LET ME KNOW! (And I'll let you know if something's SUPPOSED to be unrealistic)  
**

**This chapter is mostly reintroducing the characters and starting out the plot of PART II of the Brotherhood series. So it might be a little but don't worry... more to come!**

**Enjoy chapter one!  
**

* * *

_She had to go to the bathroom. She slowly got out of the bed so not to wake up her partner and headed to the bathroom._

_When she finished, she walked back to her room when the light at the end of the hallway flickered. She frowned. She stepped up to it and tapped it a few times to see if it was just loose or something. The flickering stopped._

_"Hmm..." She shook her head at it. She turned to go back to bed when she heard a clatter downstairs. Her brow furrowed. She slowly walked down the stairs and into the living room where the sound came from._

_A man stood there._

_"Who the hell are you!?" she asked angrily._

_The man turned and raised an arm. She stiffened. Suddenly, her eyes started to liquefy. She opened her mouth to scream but nothing came out. Her eyes melted out of her sockets before the man flicked his wrist and her head twisted, breaking her neck._

_---  
_  
Dean shot up in the bed with a gasp. For a moment he sat there, his eyes seeing nothing but his mother's body laying on the ground, her head out of angle with her body, blood surrounding her. He closed his eyes and wiped the sweat from his face.

"Dean?"

Dean turned to the other bed where his seventeen-year-old brother lay. He was propped up on his elbow, looking at Dean with a concerned expression.

Dean forced a smile. "'M fine, Sammy. Just a dream."

Sam looked down, seemingly thinking about something.

"Something you wanna say, Sam?" Sam had horrible communication skills, so Dean took every chance he could to encourage Sam to say what he wanted to say.

Sam looked uncomfortable for a second, squirming under the covers, trying figure out what he wanted to say. "Nightmare?" he eventually asked.

Dean bit his lip. "Yeah."

"About... your mom?"

Dean sighed. At this point, Sam could read him almost as well as Dean could read Sam. "Yeah. It's nothing to worry about, Sammy." Dean lay back down and closed his eyes. "Go back to sleep, Sam."

Sam stayed in the same position for a few more moments before complying. Sam stared at Dean's form, watching as Dean's breathing evened out, telling Sam he had fallen asleep. Sam sighed. Dean was always able to help when Sam had nightmares but it always seemed like he could never return the favor. He owed so much Dean for everything he had done...

But Dean always says that it doesn't work like that.

It would be better if it did.

So what, you want Dean to use you like Greg did?

Sam suppressed a shudder. He knew Dean would never use him like that... but the underlying fear never went away.

---

Dean woke up the next morning to Sam sitting on his bed staring at him. "Something wrong, Sam?" he asked groggily.

"Dad said he'd be home by now."

Dean blinked, trying to clear the sleep from his eyes, and looked at the digital clock. Eleven o'clock. _Damn, I certainly slept in!_ "I'm sure Dad's fine. Probably got stuck in traffic or something."

Sam nodded, still not completely assured but not wanting to argue. Dean and Sam rarely fought, but when they did, it was always short and ended with Sam breaking down after realizing what he was doing.

"Let me get dressed, then we can get some breakfast. What do you want to eat?"

Sam shrugged.

"Sam..."

Sam shrugged again. "I dunno..."

"You know, Sam... one of these days you're going to get a craving and tell me you actually want something specific."

Sam gave a small smile. "Maybe," was all he said.

Dean quickly got dressed and brushed his teeth before grabbing the keys to the Impala and leaving the motel room. Sam trailed close behind until they got into the car. They went to a local diner that was never very busy, but they had a few regulars which kept them afloat.

Dean and Sam sat in a booth in the far corner of the diner when one of the waitresses, Sarah according to her name tag, came by. "What can I get you boys?"

"I'll have the supreme breakfast with a side of bacon and coffee black," Dean said.

"And what about you, sweetheart?" she asked Sam.

Sam kept his head down, scooting minutely away from the over-friendly waitress, his hands twisting together in his lap. He looked at Dean pleadingly.

"He'll have some scrambled eggs and toast with orange juice," Dean said.

Sarah gave Dean a questioning look before looking at Sam like he had some sort of strange disease. She huffed and said, "I'll be right out with your orders," and walked off.

Dean glared at her back. Not that what she did was unusual. Most people, for some unknown reason, found some reason to be hostile towards Sam. It seriously pissed him off to no end.

"Sorry..." Sam muttered.

Dean sighed. "It's not your fault, Sam." Dean felt like a broken record. It had been over four years and Sam still had trouble telling the difference between when it was _actually_ his fault and when it was just because other people were total _dicks_. He didn't seem to realize that the latter was so much more often the true scenario.

"I know it must get annoying..." Sam continued.

Dean leaned over the table and placed a finger under Sam's chin to force him to look at Dean's face. "The only thing annoying is the number of people who are total assholes."

When Dean removed his finger, Sam went back to staring at his hands. Dean sighed. Sam had come a long way, but there was still a long way more to go.

It took over a year, but Sam finally understood that when he thought he was in trouble, stripping himself wasn't the answer. Still, sometimes Sam will revert to his old habits if he gets too confused or upset. When they're in crowded places, or even just out in public, Sam stayed behind Dean at all times, always within grabbing distance. He was practically a poster child for child abuse. His head was always down, never making eye contact with anyone or thing except people's feet. His shoulders hunched over and Sam always had his arms crossed across his chest in a protective manner.

It's only been in the last few months Sam and Dean started sleeping in separate beds, both agreeing that if Sam wanted to gain some independence, he needed to at least sleep on his own. Though if he's having a bad night, Sam will still come and crawl into Dean's bed, which Dean never complained about.

John and Dean trained Sam to bea hunter, using modified training to adapt to his leg. If he wanted to, Sam could really move his body with ease. Sam has trouble sparring, thinking it was wrong to fight Dean or John under any circumstances. But when they were on a hunt, even though Sam is usually scared stiffed, he's good at dodging things. On hunts, Sam primarily keeps guard. He tries to avoid using any firearm no matter what. Dean discovered Sam had developed a phobia of them when his old 'father' used him as target practice once.

While he didn't contribute much to the actual hunt, Sam turned out to be an amazing researcher. It took a while, but Dean finally convinced Sam that reading and doing math wasn't a bad thing. Once Sam started reading again, his knowledge about the supernatural world soon surpassed even John's and had saved their asses on more than one occasion.

Overall, Dean was pleased in the progress Sam had made. He used to not be able to go into public without having some sort of 'attack.' Sam wasn't perfect, but he was definitely better. The only thing he was truly disappointed about, was about Sam's self-esteem. Sam still blamed himself for killing those people with his, now, dormant powers, even though it was out of self-defense and he was just a child at the time. And he firmly believes that he deserved what his old 'family' and the townspeople did to him.

Sarah set the plates of food and drinks in front of her customers. "Here ya go. Anything else I can get you?" she asked Dean.

"No, I'm good. Sam?"

Sam stiffened before he gave a small shake of the head, barely noticeable unless you were looking for it.

Sam never spoke in front of other people and even then, if they were in public he would only speak to Dean in a quite voice as though he was scared that if someone heard his voice, he'd get in trouble. But that didn't stop Dean from trying to encourage it anyway.

Unknowing to Sam, the waitress rolled her eyes and said, "Just come to the register when you're ready to pay," and walked off.

"What a bitch..." Dean murmured as he started to eat.

Sam pulled the plate almost off the table towards him and slowly ate, little chunk by little chunk. Dean smiled. He was definitely pleased about Sam's progress as far as eating habits were concerned. He didn't need to be ordered to eat, though sometimes he needed to be told that it was okay. And Dean didn't need to tell Sam how much he should eat. Sam started to figure out how much he should eat on his own a little over a year ago and started to eat by himself. Dean practically did back flips when he saw Sam eat what _he_ wanted.

Dean ate slowly out of habit now, not wanting Sam to feel uncomfortable being the only one left eating. When they were both finally done, Dean told Sam to wait in the car while he paid. Sam grabbed the keys for the Impala and quickly ran out to the car and locked himself in as Dean walked to the register and handed over a credit card.

Sarah took the credit card, not realizing it was a fake, and slid it through her machine. "It must suck," she said.

Dean gave Sarah an even look and carefully said, "What?"

"Having to take care of that retard. I saw he has a strange limp... was he in a car accident and hit his head too hard or something," she joked with a small laugh.

Dean gave a strained smile and suppressed the need to bash the girl's head in. "Actually he _did _get the limp in a car accident. Our parents died in that accident. Ever since he's had trouble talking to vicious bitches." Dean took back the credit card and left, not bothering to see Sarah's reaction.

He opened the Impala door and slammed it shut as he got in, letting out a frustrated growl.

Sam looked at Dean sheepishly. "'M I in trouble -- ?"

"No," Dean said quickly. That was another thing that never really changed. Sam's assumption that everything was his fault or that he was always in trouble. "I just wish people would treat you better."

Sam shrugged. "They can pro'bly tell what I am..." he sad softly.

Dean looked at Sam. "And what are you exactly?" Dean challenged.

Sam gave a shaky shrug, like he didn't really know himself, and turned to gaze out the window. Dean sighed as he started the ignition and drove back to the motel.

---

When they got back inside, Dean noticed Sam looking even more worried than before. Though he couldn't blame him, with his own worry starting to shoot up. They haven't gotten word from their father and he should have been back over five hours ago.

Dean grabbed the book Sam was currently reading, War and Peace, and handed it to Sam, telling him he should read a little. Sam slowly walked to his bed and started to read without question. Though he was evidently still agitated, he still automatically responded to orders. Sam started to shake a little. Their father was never gone this long without at least telling them why over the phone.

Dean flipped out his cell and called his father. A spike of panic shot through him when a voice on the end told Dean that the phone was unavailable at the time. There were no mountains or valleys of any sort near by so calling John should have been easy. Now it seemed evident that at least his cell was somewhere where it couldn't reach service.

"Is Dad okay?"

Dean looked at Sam who was curled tightly around his book, but Dean could tell that it wasn't because Sam was interested in it. White trembling fingers gripped the book tightly against Sam's chest, showing Sam's fear.

Dean sat next to Sam on the bed and slowly pried the book from Sam's hands. "I can't reach Dad."

Sam's trembling increased. "Wh-what do ya mean? There's no signal holes _anywhere_ between here and his job..."

"I know, I know... Something's going on. I just don't know what."

"What if he's hurt?" Sam said panicky. "What if he's hurt and can't get help? What if he's lost? What if he's dead -- ?"

"Hey!" Dean said, placing his hands on Sam's shaking shoulders. "Panicking isn't going to help either way."

Sam slumped under Dean's hands. "Sorry..."

"Sam..." Dean scooted forwards and slowly brought Sam to his chest. He rocked him back and forth as he said, "I'm worried, too, Sam. But if we wanna find Dad, then we have to think about this logically and as calmly as possible." Dean could feel his shoulder getting wet. He rubbed circles into Sam's back. "It's okay, Sam. Just let it out."

Small sobs started to escape from Sam. "I'm a horrible person," Sam whimpered.

"What?" Dean frowned. "How did you come up with that? 'Cause I can tell you you must be getting your facts mixed up."

"All I can think..." Sam said, "...is how lucky I am it wasn't _you_ that got lost."

Dean gave Sam a reassuring squeeze. "That's okay, Sam. I feel the same way about you."

Sam sat up and looked at Dean with a frown on his face. "Really?"

Dean nodded. "And it's understandable." Dean wiped the tears from Sam's face.

Sam closed his eyes at the comforting touch. "What now?" he questioned.

"We'll wait until tomorrow," Dean said. "Then we'll head out to where Dad's last job was, and we'll start from there."

* * *

**Well...? What do you think? Should I keep going?  
**

**PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! REVIEWS MAKE ME HAPPY! FEED THE DRAGON!  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: If I owned Supernatural, Sam and Dean would never be allowed to wear shirts  
**

**Dean is 21, almost 22. Sam is 17. (NOT WINCEST!!!)**

**_IF YOU HAVEN'T READ TRUE BROTHERHOOD, I SUGGEST YOU DO! OTHERWISE THIS FIC WILL MAKE NO SENSE!_  
**

**This takes place four years later. I had a LOT of trouble trying to make their personalities just right. So if you notice any inconsistencies or think anything is unrealistic PLEASE LET ME KNOW! (And I'll let you know if something's SUPPOSED to be unrealistic)  
**

**HOLY CRAP! I check my email about six hours after I post my first chapter, and I have over _60_ emails worth of story alerts and favorites! Not to mention the I was overwhelmed with reviews! So thanks everyone! And I'm DEFINITELY continuing!  
**

**Enjoy chapter two!  
**

* * *

Sam lay shaking in his bed, staring at his brother's body. Dean seemed to be sleeping peaceful enough... why was he having so much trouble?

Sam flipped onto his back, thinking that a change in position might help. He tried not to think about the possibilities of their father's apparent disappearance. But his overactive imagination wouldn't listen. And it wasn't that hard for it to think of some... _creative_ ideas.

Sam sighed as he threw the covers off himself and walked to Dean's bed. He didn't want to wake his brother, but he also knew that if he didn't get enough sleep he'd be more a burden than anything else he next day. He lightly placed a hand on Dean's shoulder and he heard the change in his brother's breathing. "De?"

With his eyes still closed, Dean rolled over and pulled the blankets back. Sam immediately crawled in and pressed himself against Dean's body. Which at this point, was no small feat. Sam was skinny, but he was as tall as Dean now if he stood straight.

Dean wrapped his arms around his little brother and whispered, "Nightmare?"

Sam shook his head. "Jus' couldn' s'eep..."

Dean nodded and held Sam tightly to try and calm his trembles. At times, Sam's talking reverted back to a child when he was scared or stressed.

Sam's finger crept into mouth as he started to calm down. He still sucked on his fingers while sleeping, which was a little disconcerting to see from a seventeen-year-old, but Dean wouldn't press it. It wasn't that big of a deal and it wasn't like anyone saw him while he was asleep.

"Sleep well, Sammy," Dean whispered.

---

The next day, they immediately set out for the house their father was investigating a few towns over. The house was haunted, but their father called a few days ago and told them about the successful hunt. That was the last they heard from their father. And that's where they would start.

With fast food drive-thrus and minimal bathroom breaks, they found themselves at the town by early evening. Dean bought a motel room for the night and decided to settle in. The day's driving had been tiring for both of them and Dean wanted to be in top shape when they investigated whatever this was.

"I'm going to get some food..." Dean said. "I shouldn't be any longer than thirty minutes. If I am, I'll call you."

"Actually..."

Dean gave a small smile. He predicted this. "You wanna come with me?"

Sam looked a little sheepish when he nodded. It wasn't like Dean blamed him. With their father missing, it would be natural for Sam to be a little bit more clingy.

"Alright, c'mon squirt."

"Doesn't work," Sam said as he followed Dean out the door.

Dean frowned. "What doesn't work?"

"Squirt. I'm as tall as you."

Dean's smile widened when he realized Sam was being funny. "What about rail? You're as skinny as one..."

---

_"It's you..." John growled._

_The cloaked figure chuckled. "Very good, John. Though I wouldn't expect any less, since you've been tracking me."_

_John yanked on his chains, desperate to get his bare hands on the bastard's throat and watch the light leave his eyes._

_The figure laughed. "Really, John. You shouldn't waste your energy._

_John glared at his wife's murderer. "Why'd you do it?" John asked._

_"What? You thought I needed a reason besides it was fun?"_

_John's hands clenched._

_The figure laughed. "Oh, don't worry. I had a reason."_

_"Why?" John growled._

_"I'm not just going to come out and tell you, now, am I? There's no fun in that!"_

_"Mary was innocent!" John yelled. "She was the kindest person I ever knew! She did _nothing _wrong!"_

_"Since when do evil things only kill evil things?" the figure asked mockingly. He turned and began to leave. "I have thing to attend to. Please make yourself comfortable, John."_

---

Sam woke up with a start. The dream was necessarily scary, but a deep fear had set itself in Sam's body. Fear of the cloaked figure. _Just a dream... _Sam told himself. _It's just a dream..._ But the more Sam tried to tell himself this, the more fearful and upset he became.

Sam threw his covers off and quickly ran to Dean's bed. He placed a hand on his brother's shoulder and said, "De?"

Dean rolled over and lifted the covers. Sam immediately crawled in and pressed himself against Dean's chest. Dean wrapped his arms around him and frowned. Sam was shaking much more than usual and he could feel tears soaking his shirt. "Sammy?"

"Jus' wanna go s'eep..."

Dean placed a hand on the back on Sam's head as he started to sob. "Sam?"

"P'ease...?"

Dean slowly nodded, making note to ask Sam about this the next day. "Go to sleep, Sammy."

And Sam did.

---

"You wanna talk about last night?" Dean asked.

They were in the Impala, driving to the previously-haunted house. Sam thought about it, then shook his head.

"Why not?" Dean asked.

"You'll make fun a' me..." Sam mumbled.

Dean smiled. "Why? Was it about howler monkeys or something?" Dean sobered up when Sam didn't laugh with him. "Sam, what was your dream about?"

Sam shook his head. "It's not real," Sam said. "Why does it matter if it's not real?"

"It doesn't matter if it's real or not. If it's scaring you, that fear is real enough. And judging from last night, I _know _it scared you."

Sam thought about this. It made sense. And what were the chances Dean would really make fun of him anyway? "I had a dream about Dad."

Dean wanted to further question Sam, but he knew that the answers were coming anyway, so Dean decided to just let Sam keep the pace.

"He was chained. An'... dere was a figure... talking to him.

Dean couldn't help himself. "About what?"

"I-I don' remember," Sam mumbled, turning his gaze out the window. He didn't want to tell Dean that they were talking about his mother. He didn't know how his brother would react, and he frankly didn't want to find out.

---

When they arrived, Sam froze in his seat. He expected the house to be old, run-down, and _abandoned_. No, they were smack in the suburbs. Which means the house has a _family_. Which means there are _people_.

Dean bit his lip when he saw Sam tense at the sight of the house. That was a problem. Dean wanted to question the family, and he didn't know how they'd react to Sam or how Sam would react to them.

This usually wasn't a problem. John would investigate while Dean stayed behind with Sam. But unless Dean wanted to leave Sam locked in the care (not likely), he had to bring Sam with him.

"Sam?"

Sam's head swerved away from the house to Dean's face.

"You wanna stay here or come with me?"

"You," Sam replied without hesitation.

Dean took a deep breath. "Alright. Let's go." They got out of the car and walked up the pathway. Dean knocked on the door, half-praying they weren't home.

The door was opened by a middle-aged man. He frowned a little at the brothers. "May I help you?"

"Hi, I'm Dean. This is Sam. John Winchester's our father."

The man froze. "You mean that Winchester guy has kids?""

"Obviously," Dean said carefully. "Our Dad's missing and we were wondering if you could help us out."

The man looked over both boy carefully. He took longer with Sam. "Did somethin' attack you or somethin'?"

"Not really any of our business," Dean said.

The man sighed. "Alright, come in. Only for a few minutes, I'm expecting company." He retreated into his house, leaving the door open.

Dean felt a slight tug as he walked in. Dean turned and saw that Sam had grabbed the hem of his jacket. His knuckles were white, and he was trembling hard.

Dean took Sam's hand in his, said, "It's okay," and led Sam inside.

When they reached the kitchen, the found the man sitting at the table. He frowned at the way Sam limped, but didn't say anything. "I'm Kyle, by the way." He held out a hand, which Dean took and shook. When Kyle offered Sam his hand, Sam took a small step back and Kyle got the message. "So what do you want to know?" he asked.

"I want know everything that happened the last time you saw him."

Kyle sighed. He indicated the chairs and said, "Please sit."

After they did and Sam subtly scooted his chair closer to Dean, Kyle said, "Your father came to tell me I shouldn't have anymore problems. He tried explaining the concept of a salt and burn, but I think I suppressed it. It's not something I really wanna know. Then he left. End of story."

"The entire time he was here," Dean questioned, "...Did you notice anything unusual?"

"You mean besides the freaky-assed ghost tearing my house apart? No. Your father just came out of nowhere, explained what was happening and did what he had to."

Dean sighed. "Are you sure? Anything might help."

"I'm sure," Kyle said.

Dean gave a disappointed nod. "Alright..." he stood and offered his hand. "Thanks anyway."

Kyle took the hand and smiled. "I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help."

Dean shrugged and left, Sam trailing close behind. When they left the house, Dean felt like punching something. Hard. Not only was it a waste of time, but he unnecessarily probably scared the shit out of Sam. The last time he was in a livable house was when he was with his 'family.' Great way of bringing back memories!

Dean gave a frustrated sigh as they got into the Impala. "I guess we'll go back to the motel and do some research on the area. See if others have gone missing."

"'K-kay..." Sam was shaking and looking a little pale.

Dean placed hand on Sam's shoulder. "You alright?"

Sam shook his head. "W-when m' old d-dad... w-wasn't wit' me or wit' comp'ny... acted like Kyle..."

Dean stroked Sam hair. "God, Sammy I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have brought you with me."

"'t's okay..." Sam said. Sam leaned into Dean's touch as a tear fell down his face. "Jus' sc-cared me..."

They stayed like that for a minute or two, perfectly content. Then Dean sighed and clasped Sam's shoulder. "You ready to go back?"

Sam sat up and rubbed his eyes to rid them of the tears that had collected there "Yeah."

---

When they got back to the motel, Dean immediately started to research on the computer while Sam read through a few books on spirits to see if it might be the culprit.

Half an hour later, Dean hit his fist on the table, causing Sam to jump. "D-Dean?"

"Son of a bitch..." Dean murmured.

Sam got up from the bed and limped over. He looked at the computer screen and frowned. "Dean?"

Dean closed the laptop and sighed. "There are signs everywhere. There's a demon here."

* * *

**Okay, I think the first few chapters are going to be a bit odd and awkward until I really get into it, so please bare with me until then!  
**

**PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! REVIEWS MAKE ME HAPPY! FEED THE DRAGON!  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: If I owned Supernatural, Sam and Dean would never be allowed to wear shirts  
**

**Dean is 21, almost 22. Sam is 17. (NOT WINCEST!!!)**

**_IF YOU HAVEN'T READ TRUE BROTHERHOOD, I SUGGEST YOU DO! OTHERWISE THIS FIC WILL MAKE NO SENSE!_  
**

**This takes place four years later. I had a LOT of trouble trying to make their personalities just right. So if you notice any inconsistencies or think anything is unrealistic PLEASE LET ME KNOW! (And I'll let you know if something's SUPPOSED to be unrealistic)  
**

**I'm actually surprised at all the support I'm getting with this fic! Thank you all soooo much!**

**This chapter is a little dark (not as dark so TB, but still) so be warned!  
**

**Enjoy chapter three!  
**

* * *

"So wha' do we do now?" Sam asked.

"We need to summon that bastard."

Sam shook his head. "We can't"

Dean spun around. "What do you mean we can't?!"

Sam didn't say anything for a moment. Then he said softly, "We don't don't its name, what it looks like, or... anything. Rituals need something to specify what you wanna summon. If you do a sweep of the area, you'll probably summon more than the demon and that would probably cause even more problems."

Dean sagged when he realized Sam was frightened of him after his sudden outburst. He sat down next to Sam on the bed and placed an arm over his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Sam... I didn' mean to yell at you."

Sam nodded and leaned into his brother's warmth. "Can I see what signs you've found so far?" he asked quietly.

Dean frowned. "Why?"

"I may be able to see if he's gone anywhere and if there's a pattern."

Dean nodded and slowly got up to retrieve the laptop. He clicked on a few things before handing it to Sam. "This should be everything."

Sam grabbed the computer from him, muttering a thanks.

---

Sam slowly shut the top of the computer. "I think I know where it's going to attack next," Sam said quietly.

Dean stopped what he was doing and turned in his chair towards Sam. "Where?"

"A house... a couple streets away."

"How'd you figure that out?"

Sam shrugged. "Demon's been going after houses with children. Tying them up and torturing the parents. He started with the oldest child of the town a while ago, who's sixteen, and started going younger. I think a fourteen year, long with his seven-year-old brother, is the next target."

"How come no one's noticed before?"

Sam shrugged. "Only 'appened every five years or so..."

"And now he's back?"

Sam nodded.

Dean smiled. "Good work, Sammy." Sam almost beamed in pride. Almost. "Do you happen to know when it'll strike?"

Sam nodded. "Mos' likely tomorrow."

"Okay... That gives us a day to prepare. Any idea what kind of demon this is?"

Sam shrugged. "Typical, I think."

"Okay. We need salt, holy water... damn! We don't have Dad's book!"

Sam shrugged. "I know the exorcism," he muttered quietly.

Dean looked at Sam in surprise. "Really? When did this happen?"

"Jus' read it once..."

Dean laughed in amazement. No matter how long he knew Sam, it seemed there was always another surprise hidden around the corner.

---

Dean was busy making shotgun shells with salt. Sam _was_ doing research but fell asleep over the books. Whenever Dean looked over at his brother's sleeping form, he couldn't help but smile. Sam looked so peaceful and innocent. It was a relief almost to Dean, the knowledge that Sam had some moments of complete peace.

They still needed to make some holy water and they needed to go to the grocery store for some freaking food to eat! There was no way Dean was going to go out in public with Sam again unless he absolutely had to. Not with Sam even more emotionally delicate than usual. Their father's disappearance had shaken both of them up. Though to be completely honest with himself, Dean was surprised Sam wasn't blaming himself. Usually if something went wrong, Sam would unconsciously twist it to make it his fault. It was a skill his previous 'family' taught him.

Dean sighed as he watched his brother sleep. He meant what he said before when he said he was glad it was his father instead of Sam that disappeared. Dean knew that if Sam had disappeared, he would go mad with worry and Sam would probably break down or _shut_ down. Dean got up from his seat and sat next to his slumbering brother. He wiped the long strands of hair out of Sam's eyes. Sam was the best person he knew. He deserved everything in the world and yet the world just seems to think that Sam is just a fun plaything. Dean had no idea what Sam would do if they couldn't find their father. Dean had no idea what _he_ would do if they couldn't find their father. The idea was just too unthinkable.

He shook his head. The were going after the demon tomorrow. It most likely was the thing that took their father, or at least knew where he is. _Everything is going to be fine_, Dean assured himself.

---

_A series of people walked around, blank-faced, searching. Searching for something. The Simmons, the townspeople, the officers who fell, the doctor that kept him awake... they all wondered in the dark._

_Sam was curled in a far corner, shaking in fear. He had to be as quiet as possible. If he made a single noise, they would all hear him and punish him. He pressed his face hard against the wall, trying desperately just to disappear._

_Suddenly the cloaked figure appeared. Even with his eyes closed, Sam could see him. The figure bent down and knelt in front of the terrified teen. Placing a hand firmly over Sam's mouth, he... it slipped a hand under Sam's shirt and pressed it firmly against his chest, right where the heart was. Sam's eyes were wide in terror. He could hear his heartbeat soar. The figure just remained there, hand over Sam's mouth and heart, holding him there. Sam didn't dare try to scream or get away, for the others would hear him. And they could come._

_Suddenly, agony swept through Sam's body. Sam screamed against the hand, his eyes rolling back until only whites showed. Every ounce of flesh on his body was on fire, burning into an unrecognizable form. Yet... it wasn't. __His heart was being ripped into dozens of tiny pieces, but it continued to pump boiling blood through his body._

_The figure sudden disappeared, the end of Sam's scream released into the open followed by several heavy breathes. Tears fell down Sam's face as he trembled from the residual pain._

_A murmur rose. When Sam looked up, the Simmons, the townspeople, everyone... was looking at him, murmuring accusations and threats. Sam froze in absolute terror as they all started to come for him. He screamed as they grabbed him and dragged his body from his corner, his haven. They tore and ripped at him, ignoring his pleas and hysterical screams._

_Greg came in the front, grabbing Sam by the shoulders and pinning him to the ground. He removed Sam's and his own clothing, whispering into Sam's ear, "You're **mine**, little brother!"_

_Sam screamed as he felt Greg enter, and his punishment began._

_---_

"Sam, wake up!" Dean yelled.

Sam was screaming and thrashing. Tears ran down his face, his eyes wide and glassy. Dean straddled Sam's body, holding his arms hoping that Sam didn't hurt himself.

"Wake up, Sam! It's just a nightmare! SAM!"

Sam jerked awake, his eyes suddenly focusing and his thrashings calmed. When he looked up at Dean, instead of calming down like Dean expected, Sam seemed to panic. He pushed Dean off of him, knocking him to the floor with a loud thump.

"Ow! Sam, what's wrong?!" Dean asked worriedly.

Sam didn't seem to hear as he started to undo his jeans and pull them and his boxers down.

"No, no, no, no, no, Sam!" Dean quickly got up and grabbed Sam's arms again. "Sam, stop it! It's okay...!"

Sam squirmed under Dean's grip, whimpering pathetically. "'M sorry!" he cried, tears falling down his face again. "I-I-I'll be yours! Jus' yurs! Be a g-good boy...!" Sam begged.

Dean wrapped his arms around Sam, holding him tightly. "Shh, Sam." He held Sam's head close to his chest, burying his own face in his little brother's hair. "You don't hafta do that, remember?" Dean whispered. "We don't want you to. We just want you to be you..."

Dean repeated his mantra, one that was all too familiar to his lips. As Sam started to calm down, Dean gently loosened his grip on him. "It's okay, Sammy..." Dean gently pulled up Sam's boxers.

Sam leaned heavily against his chest, holding on to the fabric of Dean's shirt with clenched fists. When he was finally fully awake, Sam buried his face into his brother's chest. "S-sorry..." he whispered.

"Hey, you have nothing to be sorry about." Dean let go of Sam just enough so he could sit next to him on the bed.

Sam automatically curled against his brother's side as Dean curled an arm around his shoulders. Once Sam was settled, he shook his head and said, "'M sorry..."

"You have _nothing_ to be sorry about," Dean insisted. He closed his eyes and sighed when he felt Sam shake his head again. "Must have been some nightmare." Sam just shrugged, curling in tighter against Dean's chest. "What was it about?"

Sam turned his head into Dean's shoulder, absorbing the comforting smell of leather and shaving creme. "The usual," Sam whispered.

Dean nodded, though a little confused. Sam hadn't had a reaction like that in almost three years. Why would the worst of his nightmares suddenly come back like this?"

_Because it'll always be with him, _a cruel voice said in his head. _He'll never be free of it and there's nothing you can do about it._

Dean sighed. "Okay, kiddo. I think we should go to bed now." He went to get up, when Sam suddenly cried out, grabbing the hem of Dean's shirt with a death grip.

"Pl-lease..." Sam begged, his eyes watery and fearful again. "Please don' go..."

Dean felt his heart tug at the sight. _This must have been a _really_ bad nightmare..._ He sat back down next, wrapped his arms around his brother in a hug and said, "I'm not going anywhere, Sam."

Sam started to cry and tremble again, holding Dean for all it was worth. "C'n I-I s'eep w-wit' you 'n-night...?"

"Of course, Sammy. You know never have to ask."

Sam just shook his head and continued to cry.

---

It took some coaxing, but he finally got Sam and himself ready for bed. Sam was literally glued to his side the entire time. Dean finally drew the line when he went to the bathroom, forcing Sam to stay outside the door when he went.

"I'll be out in just a minute, Sam. I promise."

A couple minutes later, Dean walked out of the bathroom. "See, Sam?"

But Sam wasn't there.

"Sam? Sammy!?"

It didn't take long for Dean to find him. Sam was standing naked in the corner, his hands hesitantly playing with himself. Dean's heart sank when he realized that Sam's nightmare may have made him regress back to four years ago. Back to when they first met and Sam thought giving himself off as a piece of meat was the solution to everything. "Sam..."

Sam's head jerked up. His eyes were glassy and shockingly dead. He started to pump himself harder. "B-be good... pro-omise..."

Dean quickly grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around Sam, pulling his hands away from his groin at the same time. "Let's get you dressed," Dean said thickly, trying to forget what just happened.

Dean turned off all the lights and tucked himself and Sam into his bed. Keeping his leg straight, Sam pressed his entire body against Dean's. Dean frowned when he heard Sam muttering to himself.

"Don' le' 'em get me, p'ease, be good, be quiet as mouse-y, jus' p'ease don' le' 'em get me..."

Dean held Sam impossibly close. "Don't worry, Sam. We're going to be fine... just fine..."

As Dean suddenly remembered his father's disappearance, he started to cry. The weight of the entire situation crashing down on him. What if they couldn't find him? What if they were all that was left?

The sudden image of Sam naked, playing with himself, flashed in his mind, making his grip on Sam tighter than ever. "We're going to be okay..." Dean promised through his tears. "We're going to be okay...!"

Dean didn't even believe himself..

* * *

**Okay, I think the first few chapters are going to be a bit odd and awkward until I really get into it, so please bare with me until then!**

**Don't worry, Sam isn't going to stay like this! It's only temporary!  
**

**PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! REVIEWS MAKE ME HAPPY! FEED THE DRAGON!  
**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: If I owned Supernatural, Sam and Dean would never be allowed to wear shirts  
**

**Dean is 21, almost 22. Sam is 17. (NOT WINCEST!!!)**

**_IF YOU HAVEN'T READ TRUE BROTHERHOOD, I SUGGEST YOU DO! OTHERWISE THIS FIC WILL MAKE NO SENSE!_  
**

**This takes place four years later. I had a LOT of trouble trying to make their personalities just right. So if you notice any inconsistencies or think anything is unrealistic PLEASE LET ME KNOW! (And I'll let you know if something's SUPPOSED to be unrealistic)  
**

**I'm actually surprised at all the support I'm getting with this fic! Thank you all soooo much!**

**SORRY FOR THE DELAY! ****I've been SOOO busy these last two weeks! I won't bore you with the details (though admitting, my new obsession with Star Trek has something to do with it. I may start writing fanfiction for it XD Don't worry, I'll update all my stories first ;D)  
**

**I think I'm FINALLY into this story... Like, it's comfortable to write and it's starting to come naturally... I KNEW it would happen at some point XD  
**

**Enjoy chapter four!  
**

* * *

It was early in the morning. The sun hadn't even come up yet, but there was enough light to see the interior of the room.

Sam sat at the table, his leg twisted in a way that he could rest his foot on the floor. It wasn't comfortable, but it was the only way he could sit in a chair. He was nervously tapping his fingers on the table. He thought over what had happened the previous night and mentally berated himself for it. What was wrong with him? He hadn't had an episode like that in ages, years even. What was it about that nightmare that made him like that again?

The memory of the nightmare came back and Sam shivered. He knew why the nightmare did that to him. He knew, but he couldn't say. How could he express a feeling, emotion, _thing_ that he's never felt before?

He bent over and rested his forehead on the edge of the table. He was so different than he was a few years ago. There was a time when all he would have done was strip and laid himself out for anyone who wished to use him. Now…

Sam frowned. Was he any different? He knew he was because he _felt _different, but when he tried to think of _how_ he was different, he came up blank. Is that why the nightmare had such an effect on him? Because he hadn't really changed?

He wrapped his arms around his middle as hard knots started to form in his stomach. He was so scared. Of his nightmare, of what's happening with John, and with the hunt. Sam had a horrible feeling about the hunt and was considering begging Dean not to go. But this was the only lead they had on their dad, and if they lost it they might never find him.

Dean's breathing pattern abruptly changed and Sam stiffened. _He's waking up..._ Sam sat up and steeled himself for the inevitable questions Dean was going to ask. And the answers he would have to give.

---

As Dean began to wake, his first thoughts were of the absence of his brother. He forced himself awake fast, making sure that Sam was in fact _not_ in the bed. "Sam...!?" Dean shot up in bed then froze when he saw his brother sitting at the table.

Sam was sitting hunched over, facing his brother sheepishly. He was shaking slightly and looking at Dean frightfully. "'Morning, D-De'n," he said in a small voice.

Dean closed his eyes in relief and disappointment. Relief that Sam hadn't disappeared or runaway, disappointment that Sam still had difficultly saying his name. In all the years they've lived together, Sam has never had an easy time saying his name. When Dean asked about it, Sam simply said he didn't know why it was so difficult for him. Dean assumed it had something to do with his 'family,' and what they did to him.

Dean had no idea what it matter so much to him. It was just a name. It's not like it meant anything that Sam couldn't say it. But he knew that it took a lot of effort on Sam's part to say it at all, so it always seemed so profound that Sam said it at all.

Dean shook his head. Why were thoughts wandering like this? He flung the covers off and stretched. This wasn't really something he should be thinking about right now. He had to talk to Sam about last night. "Sam..."

"I don' know," he muttered quietly. "Nightmare wasn' dat different... Don' know why I acted..."

Dean slowly nodded. "Can you tell me what your nightmare was about?"

Sam bit his lip, tears forming in his eyes. "Wasn' told."

"Wasn't told what, Sam?" Dean asked with a familiar patience.

Sam shook his head. "No permission ta make any noise."

Dean nodded in understanding. "Did they punish you for not being quiet?"

Sam gave a shaky nod, curling in deeper on himself. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath "But they weren't here... It wasn't real."

"No," Dean said. "It wasn't."

"So I should be fine..." Sam tried to reason. He looked up at his brother pleadingly. "Why aren't I fine?"

Dean approached his brother slowly and carefully placed a hand on his shoulder. "Just because it wasn't real, doesn't mean it wasn't scary."

"It wasn't real," Sam insisted. "Why would I be scared of something not real?"

Dean sighed. This wasn't unusual. Sam tended to think in terms of logic, so if something wasn't 'logical' to him, he didn't really understand it.

It was unfortunate that his logic was so screwed up by the Simmons.

"I'm sure that your subconscious thought it was real enough. Fear is a form of natural protection. I think your subconscious was just trying to protect you."

Sam shook his head. "It wasn't real."

Dean gave his brother's shoulder a reassuring squeeze before moving to get dressed. "Sam..." Dean said carefully. "About tonight's hunt -- "

"I'll be fine."

Dean gave Sam a skeptical look. He knew Sam _way_ too well to believe that line of bull. "Sam -- "

"We have to find Dad," Sam insisted. "This is our only lead."

For a moment, Dean didn't say anything. Then he took a seat in the chair next to Sam, leaning forward to talk directly to Sam's face. "Sam, there's no point in trying to find Dad if all we do is get ourselves hurt."

Sam looked at Dean for a moment before bowing his head. "You don't think I can do it."

Dean worded his next statement very carefully. "I think you should be honest with me so we can make the right decisions."

Sam looked up sheepishly at his brother. "We have to find Dad," he whispered.

Dean sighed. "Are you sure you're up for this hunt?"

Sam nodded fervently. "We have to find Dad," he reiterated.

Dean nodded. "Alright. Let's get ready."

---

That night, the brothers were sitting in the Impala, waiting for any signs of a demon's arrival. Through the window, they could see two parents and their teenage sons eating dinner.

Dean sighed. This was the worst part. Knowing something bad was going to happen, but all you can do is sit around and wait. They looked like a nice enough family. The boys were fighting, throwing little bits of food at each other, yelling and so forth, while the parents scolded and tried to keep their sons under control. Dean looked over at Sam, who was staring intently at the house, as if he saw something strange about it. "What is it?"

Sam shook his head. "I dunno."

Dean gave Sam a serious look. "Sam, what's wrong?"

Sam just continued to shake his head. "Something."

Dean looked back at the house. The family looked normal, but that doesn't really mean anything in their line of work. Another thing Dean and John discovered about Sam was his intuition. It wasn't necessarily a psychic thing, but if Sam had a bad feeling, you should too.

Dean looked back at his brother. "You think we're at the wrong house?"

Sam sighed. "I dunno."

It was several hours later, after the family had gone to bed and the lights had been turned off, before something happened. At first, Sam just sat up straighter in his seat. Then a loud thump and other noises came from the house.

Dean and Sam jumped out of the car and quickly ran to the house. Dean picked the lock at lightning speed and they both quickly slipped inside.

All was silent in the house. The brothers remained still for several moments, before a small thump was heard from above. Dean looked at Sam and Sam gave Dean a small, shaky nod.

Dean led the way up the stairs, taking them slowly for both stealth and Sam's sake, who still had trouble climbing stairs.

When the reached the second floor, there was one room light on. The door was open an inch, and sounds of pain and distress emanated from the room. Dean quickly stood on one side of the door while Sam took the other. Dean had a shotgun with rock salt at the ready while Sam had holy water and a bag of salt.

_Ready?_ Dean mouthed.

Sam nodded.

_One..._ Dean lipped, _Two..._

The door flung open on its own accord and the brothers were dragged in by force. The door slammed shut behind them and they were forced to the ground. Dean struggled against the force, momentarily stopping when he realized Sam was shaking like a leaf next to him, his eyes wide and fearful.

"Look what the cat dragged in..."

Dean strained his neck to look up at the voice's owner. It was the father of the family. Or, that's who was possessed anyway.

The wife was tied to a chair in the corner, covered in bruises and cuts. The two teens were tied to the bedposts, the older one trying to keep a brave front while the younger's body shook hard, his eyes screwed shut.

The demon squatted down and looked at the immobilized brothers. "How ya two doing?"

Dean glared back at it. "Peachy."

The demon chuckled. "Your... your not here to try and save these people are you?"

Dean grimaced as he tried to break free of his invisible bonds. "The thought crossed our minds."

The demon shifted its attention to Sam. "What about you, Sam? What are you here for?"

Sam didn't respond. Tears were falling down the side of his face to the floor and his body continued to tremble.

The demon sighed as it stood back up. "Well, in any case, I'm glad you're here." It gave a small nod and the brother's were released from their bonds. Dean quickly grabbed the holy water and tried to fling it at the demon, but it just waved its arm and the holy water, salt, and shotgun all disappeared. It snapped its fingers and coils of rope came from nowhere and wrapped themselves around their wrists. Dean was forced back into a chair next to the wife, his legs and arms tied tightly to it. Sam was dragged across the floor and his wrists were tied to a metal bar about four feet off the ground.

Dean yanked on the ropes, only succeeding to chafe his arms. He looked over at Sam, who was trying to gain some footing to relieve the pressure on his arms and failing miserably. Tears were streaming own his fearful face as his feet kept slipping and his twisted leg refused to cooperate.

The demon laughed at his work. "Excellent!" It took out a knife and fingered it playfully. "Now the _real_ fun begins."

* * *

**Okay, so the second half of this chapter wasn't that well written... Hey! At least I posted a chapter!  
**

**I was rereading this chapter and slapped my forehead for the 'logical' part... Spock has ruined me... And I only 'met' him a month ago...  
**

**PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! REVIEWS MAKE ME HAPPY! FEED THE DRAGON!  
**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: If I owned Supernatural, Sam and Dean would never be allowed to wear shirts  
**

**Dean is 21, almost 22. Sam is 17. (NOT WINCEST!!!)**

**I'm actually surprised at all the support I'm getting with this fic! Thank you all soooo much!**

**Okay, I'm reminding you guys and myself... SAM IS SEVENTEEN!! As I'm writing this, I'm noticing that I'm picturing him as like a 12-14 year old, which is wrong. He is SEVENTEEN! If you guys are also picturing Sam younger, Try to keep in mind he's almost an adult XD It makes the writing more powerful in my opinion ;)**

**Now, enough of my ranting...  
**

**Enjoy chapter five!  
**

* * *

The demon crouched down in front of Sam, brandishing the knife in front of his face. Sam screwed his eyes shut and turned his head away, mewling softly in fear.

"Nah, ah, ah!" The demon grabbed Sam's chin and forcibly turned his head back to face his. "Open those pretty eyes of yours, Sammy."

Reacting automatically to the order, Sam opened his eyes, tears starting to fall down his face.

"Good, good... Oh, we're gonna have _so_ much fun!" The demon pressed his lips firmly against Sam's

Sam screwed his eyes shut at the intimate touch, the harshness of it making him whimper.

"Get away from him!" Dean yelled. "Or I swear to god...!"

The demon chuckled as he pulled away from the dominating kiss. "What? You'll kill me?"

"I will send you straight to hell," Dean spat.

The demon smiled. He got to his feet and walked over to Dean's side. "I don't really see how you can do that without Daddy's book," he teased.

Dean's eyes flickered to Sam's momentarily before returning to glare at the demon. Sam had all the exorcisms memorized, but he was obviously in no condition to recite any of them.

The demon chuckled again as he moved to his 'wife's' side. She started to whimper and sob as the demon brought the knife down to her arm and slowly pressed it in.

"No!" the younger of the two sons screamed.

"Dad, stop it!" the elder yelled.

Once the knife sunk halfway through her arm, the demon pulled it back out, relishing the woman's pathetic screams.

"Why are you doing this?!" the elder asked angrily.

The demon turned to his two 'sons'. He walked over to the youngest, who started to whimper and struggle to get away.

"Jenny..." he whimpered.

The demon smiled and kicked the boy swiftly in his side.

"Jay!" the elder yelled. "You son of a bitch!"

"Hey!" Dean yelled. "Why don't you pick on someone your own size?"

"What, like you?" the demon laughed.

"Yeah," Dean said. "Just leave that family alone."

The demon smiled. He brought the knife to his own head and said, "What about this meat? Should I let him go too?"

"Yeah," Dean said with a calm fury. "Then you get the hell outta here before I send you down to the pit."

The demon laughed. "What about your daddy? Hmm? Isn't that why you're here? To find him?"

Dean didn't say anything.

"Alright," the demon sighed. "I guess I should start working."

Dean frowned. "What do you mean 'working?'"

"I mean..." the demon walked back to Dean's side and quickly sunk the knife into Dean's shoulder.

"No!" Sam screamed shrilly.

"Ahhhh...! You son of a _bitch_...!"

"Now..." the demon said. "My real work begins." He slowly twisted the blade, a small amount of blood gushing out of the wound.

Dean mashed his teeth together, forcing himself to stay silent. He would be _damned_ before he gave this demon an _iota_ of pleasure from this.

The demon pulled out the blade and looked at Sam. "Enjoying the show?"

Sam was trembling hard, staring at his brother with glassy eyes. "D-don't..." he begged. "P'ease, st-top..."

The demon chuckled as he cut open Dean's shirt and started to cut a random pattern in Dean's chest. "Make me, Sammy… make me."

---

REMINDER!_SAMISSEVENTEEN!ALMOSTANADULT!_

---

Dean was trembling hard in the chair. His body felt heavy, hot, and _tired_. His blood-soaked and ruined shirt and jeans clung to him uncomfortably. The cold air of the house made him shiver and his teeth chatter. And although superficial, the shallow cuts covering his body were many and the pain was starting to take its toll. He lifted his head off of his chest when he heard the ring of the knife as the demon cleaned off the blood.

"How ya feeling, Deano?"

Dean smiled halfheartedly. "Go to hell."

The demon chuckled. He looked over at Sam, who was still staring at Dean with glassy eyes. He was halfheartedly struggling against the ropes around his wrists, his focus entirely on his brother.

"What about you, Sammy? How ya holding up?" As expected he didn't get a response. The demon walked up and crouched in front of him. "Hey, Sammy…" he waved a hand in front of Sam's face, making Sam flinch and fearfully look at the demon. "You in there?" When Sam didn't answer, he slapped Sam across the face, electing a small whimper from the teen.

"Leave 'im alone…!" Dean growled. He tried to ignore the swaying of the room, but the blood loss was starting to become too great.

The demon ignored Dean as he grabbed Sam by the chin and forced him to look at Dean again. "Are you paying attention here at all?"

Tears fell more earnestly from Sam's eyes at the sight of his brother. His brother, his hero, his everything, tied to a chair, bloody, and in pain.

"Your brother's being tortured here, and all you can do is cry? After everything he's done for you..."

Dean frowned at the demon's words. "What the hell are you doing...?"

The demon shoved Sam's face away as he stood. "I'm trying to make a point."

"What _point_?" Dean asked.

The demon ignored Dean's question as he placed his knife in a bag and took out something else. He walked over to stand behind Dean. "I hope you're ready, Deano..." the demon cooed, "Because this is going to hurt _a lot_."

Dean felt something cold press against his neck a second before agony swept through his body. Dean jerked and screamed against clenched teeth as the electrical current swam through him. His limps and insides twisted and churned in agony, out of his control. Finally, after what seemed like hours, the pain stopped and Dean fell limp in the chair.

"P'ease..." Sam whimpered.

"Please what?" the demon said childishly.

"P'ease… st-top…"

The demon just smiled, pressed the tazer to Dean's neck and electrocuted him again. Caught unawares, Dean shouted out as the demon continued to torture him.

"P'ease…!" Sam sobbed. "St-to-op…!"

The demon stopped the current, and this time when Dean fell limp, he didn't wake back up.

"D-D'en…" Sam whimpered. "W-wake up…!"

The demon sighed as he placed the tazer down and poked Dean's side. Dean's body swayed grotesquely in the chair. "I think he's out for the count."

Sam tried to keep his breathing under control. He knew Dean wasn't dead. He could see him breathing. But he was unconscious with several lacerations, most of them bleeding freely, and he was just electrocuted repeatedly.

_What if he's dying?_

The demon crouched in front of Sam again and grabbed his face. "Look me in the eye, Sammy."

Another order. And like a good boy, Sam obeyed. He froze as the demon revealed his pitch black eyes.

To anybody watching at them, it seemed like they were frozen, just staring at each other. When, in fact, so much more was going on.

The demon was digging deep into Sam's mind, ripping apart the delicate defenses and probing deep into his psyche. Sam was silently screaming as all the memories were dug up and thrown back at him in full technicolor. On the surface, he started to tremble and silently cry, his sense of control and self-worth starting to dissolve.

At long last, the demon retreated, removing itself from Sam's mind and back to reality. Free from the demon's grip, Sam curled in on himself the best he could and quietly sobbed. He could feel a warm wetness trickling down his leg, and was vaguely aware he had wet himself.

The demon sighed. "Oh, well." He went to his bag and retrieved his knife. He stood behind the unconscious Dean and lightly slide the blade across the young man's neck, never breaking the skin. "I hope you've said your goodbyes, Sammy..."

Sam's eyes flickered up for a moment and froze at the knife hovering near Dean's neck. "N-no..."

The demon smiled as he raised his arm, preparing to sink the blade in Dean's chest.

"No, no, no, no, NO!" Sam screamed.

An unseen force flung the demon backwards. He flew through the air until he crashed through a window. The demon's face was of shock and fear before he disappeared.

"DAD!" Jay screamed.

A sickening thump was heard as the demon fell to the ground. A few moments later, thick black smoke could clearly be seen flying up towards the sky before disappearing.

All was silent. Sam was frozen, _petrified - _terrified of what he had done. The memory of when all those people fell resurfaced and Sam lost total control, vomiting all over himself and the floor. _I did it again. I_ killed_ again... They're all gonna hate me. They're all gonna hurt me. They're all gonna punish me._

The wife was frozen in the chair, not completely comprehending of what just happened. Jay was sobbing, all the recent events becoming too much for him, and Jenny was stoic, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.

A few distant screams and commotions could be heard from outside. Evidently, the body had been found.

---

For an impossibly long time, almost nothing changed. Jay stopped crying and Jenny continued to undo his binds, but otherwise, all was the same.

Until finally, the sounds of sirens could be heard.

"Oh, thank god..." the wife sobbed.

The sound of the front door being opened could be heard, followed by a voice. "Joyce!? Boys?!"

"We're up here!" Jenny yelled.

Moments later, several police officers entered the room. Sam was snapped back into reality by the familiar uniforms, and he whimpered and shied away fearfully from the personnel.

"Jack!" Joyce cried out in relief.

"Oh my god..." Jack breathed. He pointed to Sam and the boys. "Get those boys untied!"

While a few officers untied Jay and Jenny, a couple others went to untie Sam.

"N-no..." Sam begged, the déjà vu of this predicament becoming too much for him.

"It's okay, kid," one of the officers said. "We're not gonna hurt you."

"My god, what happened to his leg?" the other officer asked with disgust on his face.

"No, p'ease..." Sam sobbed. He tried to twist away from threatening men, but he just couldn't get away.

"This kid needs a hospital, asap!" Jack yelled.

Sam turned his head towards the voice and saw the officer standing over Dean's body. "De..." Sam whimpered. "D-D'en...!"

"Hey, hey! It's okay, kid... We're going to take care of him."

"D-De...!" Sam called. Tears streamed down his face more earnestly at receiving no response from his brother. "De, p'e-ease!"

Seeing how Sam was distracted, the officers quickly cut the rope holding Sam's wrists and Sam fell unceremoniously to the ground. But he didn't seem to notice. "D-De'n...!" Sam yelled. "De!"

"Someone, get the paramedics up here!" Jack yelled.

Sam tried to get up to his feet, but the physical and mental stress were making it hard for his limps to cooperate. "D-D'en!" Sam started to scream as he tried to crawl to his brother.

"Hey!"

One of the officers grabbed Sam's shoulders, holding him back. Sam froze under the touch and started to tremble.

"Do you know him?" the officer asked.

Sam didn't hear the question. All he heard was a harsh, demanding voice and automatically reacted to it by falling limp, allowing the men to do whatever they wanted to him.

Officer Barris looked dumbfounded as the tall, seventeen-year-old fell limp to the ground. He's seen trauma cases before, but he's never seen someone of that age act quite like _that_ before, regardless of the trauma. The teen was trembling and tears were falling silently down his face.

"What on earth...?"

The paramedics arrived and the officers stood back so they could assess everyone's condition. They quickly untied Dean and Joyce and placed them on gurneys, taking them and Joyce's sons down to the ambulance. After checking on Sam's condition, they decided it was best to sedate him for now and take a better assessment once they were at the hospital.

Sam was surprised when the men didn't strip and punish him. But when he felt the needle puncture his arm, his breath caught in his throat as he braced himself for a new round of torture. As the world started to darken, Sam subconsciously curled in on himself protectively, silently begging his tormentors for some form of forgiveness.

* * *

**The second half was REALLY hard to write, (not mentally just... literally - as in literature, not 'literally'... I'm shutting up now) So any feedback or advice would be EXCELLENT!  
**

**PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! REVIEWS MAKE ME HAPPY! FEED THE DRAGON!  
**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: If I owned Supernatural, Sam and Dean would never be allowed to wear shirts  
**

**Dean is 21, almost 22. Sam is 17. (NOT WINCEST!!!)**

**I'm actually surprised at all the support I'm getting with this fic! Thank you all soooo much!**

**Okay, I'm reminding you guys and myself... SAM IS SEVENTEEN!! As I'm writing this, I'm noticing that I'm picturing him as like a 12-14 year old, which is wrong. He is SEVENTEEN! If you guys are also picturing Sam younger, Try to keep in mind he's almost an adult XD It makes the writing more powerful in my opinion ;)**

**BTW PEEPS... I've got a poll on my profile asking about starting another fic. I'd love to have everyone's input. Also, I've recently added another options, so check it out again even if you've already voted and if you want to change a vote PM me XD  
**

**Now, enough of my ranting...  
**

**Enjoy chapter six!  
**

* * *

Dean moaned as he began his way back to consciousness. His body felt heavy and his head was unusually foggy. _Oh great, I think I'm drugged..._ Dean tried to move his body but found it was quite content to stay still. Dean frowned as he forced himself to stir a little.

A wave of pain hit him, making him groan and his eyes snap open.

He was greeted with a wall of bright light. He squinted and blinked a few times and realized it was a _very_ white ceiling. The ceiling of a hospital.

_What the...?_ Dean's eyes started to wander around the room, taking in the total emptiness of it. Usually when one of them was injured on a hunt, the others would be hovering uncomfortably close until he woke up.

So where was Sam and John?

Suddenly the memories of recent events flood back to him and his eyes widened. _Oh, god! What happened after I passed out?! How long was I out?! Where's Sam?!_ Dean slowly sat up, his body stiff and pain-ridden. He yanked the IVs and the nasal tube and slowly started to get off the bed.

"Just what do you think you're doing?"

Dean turned his head to the doorway to see a nurse glaring at him. "Where's S-am?" he croaked out.

The nurse shook her head as she walked in and easily pushed the Winchester back into the bed. "Not so fast, bub. You just came out a surgery and, frankly, you're lucky to be alive. You need to rest..."

"Sa-am!" Dean insisted. Unfortunately the effort brought on a dry coughing spell.

The nurse quickly poured a glass of water and handed it to Dean. He took it gratefully and quickly downed it.

"I'll give you this much..." the nurse said as she checked Dean's vitals. "You sure recover fast. You've only been here a few days and already you're - "

Dean choked on the water. "A few _days!_"

The nurse frowned at Dean's surprise. "Well, yes. After what... happened to you... we've kept you sedated until we thought you could handle the pain."

_Days_... _I've been out for days..._ "Where's Sam?"

"Sam...?"

"Yes! My brother!"

She looked down thoughtfully for a moment before shaking her head. "I don't know who you're talking about."

"He has a scar across his face and a twisted leg...!"

Her eyes widened in realization and her mouth made a small 'oh'. "Oh, yes... so his name's Sam..."

"Is he okay? Can I see him? Where is he?"

She rest her hands on Dean's shoulders and pushed him back on the bed again. "He's fine. He's in a separate room."

Dean looked at her skeptically. "I know him better than anyone and highly doubt he's 'fine'. Now tell me the truth!"

The nurse sighed. "Let me get your doctor." She turned to leave.

"No!" Dean shouted. "Where's Sam!?"

"Stay put," she said sternly. "I'll be back in a minute."

"Wait!" But she was already gone. "God_dam_mit!" Dean slammed his head against the pillow, immediately regretting it as a wave of pain exploded from his head and chest.

By the time the pain subsided to a tolerant level the nurse returned with an older gentleman, presumably Dean's doctor. The doctor quickly walked up and placed a hand on Dean's head. Dean slapped his hand away impatiently. "I'm fine. Where's Sam?"

The doctor sighed. "You had a low-grade fever before. I needed to make sure it hadn't advanced at all."

"I'm _fine_. Now tell where my brother is."

"If you let me talk to you about _you_ first, then we'll talk about Sam."

Dean looked at the doctor suspiciously. Then he slowly nodded.

The doctor smiled in victory. "My name is Dr. Sully and please don't call me a redheaded woman." Dean smirked. "There are a few questions I need to ask first. How old are you?"

"Twenty-one."

"How old is you brother?"

"Seventeen."

"Are you his guardian or are your parents available?"

"I'm responsible for his welfare," Dean quickly rattled off.

Dr. Sully nodded. "Alright, then..." He sighed and looked back up at Dean. "Dean, I'm going to be honest with you. What you went through was extremely traumatic. Being tortured like that - "

"Please spare me the lecture," Dean pleaded.

Dr. Sully chuckled. "I understand that you don't want to dwell on it..."

"You're right, I don't, but not for the reasons you think."

Dr. Sully nodded. "I understand. You're more worried about your brother."

Dean blinked. He really didn't expect the man to hit the nail on the head like that. "Yeah... but it's not only that... the torturing... I really just makes me more pissed than anything else. So please do not send me to some shrink or try to have some sort offreakin' heart-to-heart."

"I won't do anything you don't want me to do."

Dean nodded, still not completely believing he wasn't one of those pushy doctors that always try to make you 'better,' even against your will. "Okay then. What about physically?"

Dr. Sully sighed. "You have multiple lacerations. You have over a hundred sutures, all scattered around your arms and chest. Themucsles in your arm have been cut through, but they're healing nicely for now. Don't try and do heavy lifting for that arm for a while, got it?"

Dean gave a curt nod. "Got it. No heavy lifting for me."

"And I don't believe you." The doctor sighed. "You _are_ an adult, and as naive as you may be, you can make you're own decisions." He looked back at his clipboard. "You have a burn on the back of your neck, obviously from electric shock. It's also healing without any complications. The electric shock itself caused minimal damage. You did flat line at one, though. You were brought back pretty quickly but we want to keep you undersurvaillance for another day now that you're awake, just to be safe."

There was a few moments of silence. Dean gave the doctor a look. "Is that all?"

"Except for the painkiller I _will _be subscribing you, yes. That's all."

"Alright. Now what about my brother?"

Dr. Sully blew out a long sigh. "You brother... Sam, right?" Dean nodded impatiently. "Things with your brother have been... complicated."

Dean's stomach started to clench. "Complicated how?"

"He woke up soon after he arrived here. However he panicked and for some reason started to take his clothes off."

Dean closed his eyes in saddness. _Oh no..._

"After that he was mostly catatonic. We admitted him and treated him for shock. He remained the same until..."

Dean practically swallowed his tongue at the pause. "Until what?!"

Dr. Sully gave a reluctant sigh. "Those two boys that were in the room with you? The youngest came into Sam's room when no one else was there. The nurse found him in there later and quickly ushered him out but... He must have said something to Sam 'cause later we found Sam in the bathroom with his wrists slit."

Dean's stomach disappeared and his mind went blank. All the color drained from his face as his eyes widened in horror. "H-he tried to commit suicide!"

Dr. Sully nodded gravely. "And became very violent. Although it's not a term we doctors like to use, I think it's fair to say Sam suffered a mental breakdown. Clinically, we've said he's suffering from mild psychopathy."

"Meaning...?" Dean asked with dread.

"He's violent, non-caring of his actions, probably not even aware that what's he's doing is wrong. He's completely unaware of other's intentions or the fact that they're even people."

"What? No, that's not right. Sam has trouble reading and understanding other people, but he's certainly aware of them and the fact that they're people."

"Like I said, this happened after Jay Knutt was in his room. It's possible that Jay said something to cause this behavior. Sam started to attack members of staff, struggling against them... He had no anger or fear for them. He, himself was just upset and acting out.

Dean shook his head in disbelief. _This cannot be happening... Oh, god Sam..._! "Where is he now?"

"He's in a locked ward and in restraints. We treated his wrists and he should be fine, physically. Mentally..."

"I need to see him," Dean interjected.

Dr. Sully shook his head. "I'm sorry, that's impossible. In Sam's current condition, he could seriously hurt you without realizing it. And you're in no condition to go anywhere, _regardless_ of how you feel."

"You don't understand," Dean pleaded. "Sam..." Dean bit his lip. He wasn't sure how much he should tell this doctor about Sam's past. If the doctor thought that Dean wasn't legally Sam's guardian because of their circumstances, it could bring up a whole new set of problems. "Sam's been through trauma before," Dean said slowly. "He's never completely recovered, but he's always better around me than not. Hell, I doubt Sam's ever even spoken without me around."

Dr. Sully sighed. "I'll think about. For now I want you to get some rest. I know you need it."

Dean really didn't want to admit it, but he was really tired and sleeping sounded _so_ good. But Sam was still priority. "I want to see Sam first."

The doctor gave Dean and even look. "You're gonna give me a hard time until you see him, aren't you?" Dean smirked. "Alright. But you're going by wheelchair and you're _not _going to go into the room. You'll be able to see him through a window. Then you'll come right back here to get some rest. I'll sedate you if I have too."

Dean sighed, but he knew that was as much as he was going to get out of the doctor. Besides, he really was in no condition to be fighting _anyone._ "Fine."

A wheelchair was brought to the room and Dr. Sully helped Dean move from the bed to the chair. Dean felt so damn _weak_ for needing help to get into a damn wheelchair and wished he could spare himself the humiliation of it all. But Sam was more important than pride at the moment.

As a nurse pushed Dean into the elevator, Dean pondered what the doctor told him and felt himself shaking with anger. Anger at the Jay boy, for making Sam break, anger at the demon, for torturing every person in that room in the first place, and anger at himself, for putting Sam in that situation. If Dean had done more research, been more prepared, maybe they would have exorcised the damn thing instead of getting trapped in its sick game.

All sort of questions started to plague Dean. What happened after he lost consciousness? What did that kid _do_ to Sam? Where was the demon now? What was going through Sam's head right now?

Where was their father?

It suddenly occurred to Dean that all that happened had been for nothing. The demon knew something about John, that was for sure, but it was tightlipped and gave up nothing. So he and Sam were tortured, he was close to death's doorstep while Sam was in a locked ward, for nothing. It was all just a waste of time.

"We're here," the nurse said.

Dean's head shot up, unaware that they had even left the elevator. His heart broke at the sight.

Sam was laying on a bed in full restraints. Straps across his forehead, chest, legs, arms, the full nine yards. Sam was weakly struggling against them, small whimpers and full-body trembles evident every few seconds. His eyes were glassy and blank, wandering aimlessly around the ceiling.

'Sammy...' Dean mouthed. He leaned forward and placed a hand on the cool glass. Tears prickled in his eyes as he lightly tapped on the glass. "Sammy..."

"I don't think he can hear you, son," the nurse said quietly.

Dean leaned his forehead against the glass and silently cried. "Don't worry, Sammy..." he whispered, hoping that somehow, his brother could hear him. "I'll get outta here and I'm gonna make you better. I promise." He clenched both fists against the glass and pushed his head hard against it, the pain his punishment for letting this happen.

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**This chapter ended up being Dean angsty... but don't worry! Plenty of Sam angst next chapter!**

**REMEMBER TO TAKE MY POLL!  
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**PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! REVIEWS MAKE ME HAPPY! FEED THE DRAGON!  
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	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: If I owned Supernatural, Sam and Dean would never be allowed to wear shirts  
**

**Dean is 21, almost 22. Sam is 17. (NOT WINCEST!!!)**

**Okay, I'm reminding you guys and myself... SAM IS SEVENTEEN!! As I'm writing this, I'm noticing that I'm picturing him as like a 12-14 year old, which is wrong. He is SEVENTEEN! If you guys are also picturing Sam younger, Try to keep in mind he's almost an adult XD It makes the writing more powerful in my opinion ;)**

**This chapter... was so-so as far as writing quality. Unfortunately, the next part (few chapters) is gonna be a little awkward as I get into it again. I have it planned out but... it's just not coming out naturally :P  
**

**Now, enough of my ranting...  
**

**Enjoy chapter seven!  
**

* * *

_Sam lay curled on the bed, terror gripping his heart with an iron fist. There was people... _everywhere!_ Sam could practically hear their accusations, their hate towards him._

_He has no idea how long it's been since he last saw Dean. Last he saw him, he was tied to a chair, bloody. Sam's chest clenched hard, restricting his breathing and making it painful. He wanted his brother so badly! Sam was certain Dean wouldn't judge him for what he had done. Dean never did. Now more than ever, Sam yearned to hear his brother's comforting words._

_Sam stiffened as the door to his room crept open. Sam hid his face, sure that it was another doctor, here to torment him._

_"Your name Sam?"_

_Sam frowned. That did not sound like a doctor. Sam looked up hesitantly and saw a boy standing there. One of the sons of the man the demon was possessing._

_His eyes were red and his face flushed. He was glaring at Sam with unadulterated hatred. Sam flinched at the look and turned his head from it so he could the gaze._

_The boy walked up to Sam and roughly grabbed his shoulder. "Hey! Look at me!" The boy frowned when Sam whimpered at the touch and the command. Slowly, the tall, seventeen-year-old flipped himself back over to look at the boy, following the seven-year-old's orders._

_The boy took a step back, unnerved by the fearful and childish almost-adult person. "You killed my dad..." the boy squeaked out, tears starting to run down his face. "You killed my dad!" he said louder. "And I hope you die too! That other guy you were with is already dead, and now you...!" The boy's small rant tettered off as Sam eyes widened and the color drained from his face. "And..." The boy started to back out of the room, the older teen becoming too creepy for him to handle. "And now... you should just die too... you freak..."_

_The boy turned around to run and ran straight into a young nurse. "What are you doing in here?!" she scolded. She quickly ushered the boy out of the room and escorted him back to his own._

_Sam lay limply on the bed, a new... emptiness consuming him. _Dean's dead...? Gone? Alone? I'm alone? He's gone? Forever? Gone...?

_When the nurse came back, the bed was empty. She frowned. "Sweetie?" She looked around the room and gasped when she walked around to the other side of the bed._

_Sam was sitting on the floor, blankly looking up at her. He was gasping a bloody syringe, his wrists cut up and bloody..._

_---  
_  
It wasn't long before Dean was ready. All he really did was, in secret, practice walking.

Now, two nights after he first saw Sam strapped to the bed, Dean had signed himself out AMA. Before visiting hours were over, Dean visited Sam. He spent twenty minutes, just staring at his brother, and thinking through his plan. "I'll get you out, Sammy," Dean whispered, before a nurse came by and told him that visiting hours were over.

It was nearly midnight now when Dean came back and snuck into the hospital. It wasn't that hard, actually. There were a dozen people in the emergency room, mostly children with sicknesses. All Dean did was sneak by the busy nurses.

He quickly made his way to the psych ward, careful to avoid being seen by the security cameras. Of course, the real trouble was going to come when he got to Sam's room, where there's was a security camera inside.

When he got to Sam's room, he looked and saw that he was sleeping fitfully. "Let's get outta here," he mumbled. He carefully opened door, cringing at the loud noise it made. He ran to Sam's side and cradled his head in his hands. "Sam!"

Sam's eyes swiveled to Dean's face. Dean cringed at the blankness he saw there, but felt a flicker of hope when Sam's blank expression turned to a look of confusion. "It's okay, Sammy..." Dean carefully undid all the restraints keeping Sam mobolized. "We're getting outta here..."

As soon as Sam's arm was free, he reached up and lightly touched Dean's lips. "De...?"

Dean grabbed Sam's hand in his own and smiled. "Yeah. It's me, Sammy."

Harsh sobs started to break through. Right before Dean's eyes, Sam started to break down. "Y-your... h-h-he-ere...?"

Tears welled in Dean's eyes as he leaned foward and rest his forehead against Sam's. "That's right, Sammy..." he said wetly. "I'm here."

---

Dean helped Sam out of the hospital and was strapping him into the passenger seat of the Impala. He threw the security tapes he 'borrowed' into the back and went to close the passenger door when Sam flung his arms around Dean's neck. "P'ease don' leave..." he whimpered, his shaking coming back.

Dean gripped Sam's arms and tried to unwrap them but Sam had an iron grip. "Sammy, I'm not going anywhere... Just to the driver's seat."

Sam shook his head. "I-I won' do no more... Pr-romise... I-I'll be good..."

"Sam..." Dean carefully stroked his brother's hair, trying to calm him down. "We have to get out of here before the hospital personnel realize your gone."

"No! No... don' make me go back...!" Sam begged. "P'ease! I-I'll do whatever..." Sam let go of Dean and started to pull down his hospital pants.

Dean quickly grabbed Sam's hands and pulled them away from his pants. "No. Sam..."

Sam looked up at Dean confused. Then a slight flicker of realization shined threw. "N-not... a good way... to say... 'sorry'...?"

Dean smiled. "That's right."

Sam looked down at his hands, still confused. Dean took the moment to close the door and run to the other side. He hopped in and quickly drove out of the hospital parking lot and back to the motel.

Sam continued to look at his hands, as if someone replaced them with someone else's. "Dad..."

Dean glanced at Sam sadly. "We haven't found him yet, Sammy."

"He's..." Sam shook his head and grasped it tightly, lightly banging the sides of his head with his fists. "Pain... Why won' it go away...!"

"We're almost back at the motel," Dean said more to himself than Sam. "We're almost back..."

Ten minutes later, Dean pulled up in front of their room and quicky jumped out and ran to the other side. He unbuckled Sam and helped him out of the car.

"Leg hurts..." Sam whimpered.

"I know, Sam, I know..." Dean put Sam's arm over his shoulders and helped Sam into the motel room.

Sam was putting almost no weight on his twisted leg, his face twisting in pain everytime it hit something. "Demon... did... something..."

Dean helped Sam onto the bed. "Can I look at it, Sam?"

Sam nodded. "Punishment..."

"No, no, no, Sam..." Dean placed a hand on Sam's cheek. "I'm not gonna punish you."

Sam started to cry. All of this was becoming to much for him. He just didn't know what to think anymore.

Dean carefully wiped Sam's tears away with the pads of his thumbs. "You're alright now..."

Sam shook his head. "He's... _here..._"

Dean sighed. "Why don't you go to sleep now?"

Sam shook his head more adamantly. "P'ease..."

"Sam, sleep."

Sam flinched at the order but quickly closed his eyes and fell deep into his own mind.

Dean bent forward and kissed Sam on the top of his head, before carefully pulling Sam's pants down and checking on his leg.

---

_"You came here alone?" the cloaked figure said._

_Sam looked up fearfully, cowering away from it. "Y-y-yes..." he stammered out._

_The figure chuckled. "How noble! You didn't want your family to be hurt, so you came to sacrifice yourself! Oh, that's just too sweet!"_

_Sam swallowed hard before sitting up straight and trying to put on a brave face. "L-let them go..."_

_The figure smiled. "You mean them?"_

_He pointed to the opposite corner of the room, where John was unconscious and in chains and Dean was pulling furiously on his. "Don't you even _think_ about it, Sammy!_"

_Sam nodded. "Please..."_

_The figure stepped closer to Sam. "And what will you give me in return?"_

_Sam started to shake. "A-anyth-thing..."_

_"Really...?" The figure stuck his foot in Sam's groin and started to wiggle it around, making Sam involuntarily moan._

_"Stop it, you sonovabitch!" Dean growled._

_The figure laughed as he pulled his foot away and Sam curled in on himself, shaking even harder than before. "You sure about this?" the figure asked with mock seriousness. "I mean, I could just kill them and you could go free..."_

_"No!" Sam slowly uncurled his shaking body. "I-I'll do... anyth-thing..."_

_The figure smiled, the twisted gesture one of victory. "Good."_

---

"Sammy, wake up!" Dean urged.

Sam was moaning and twisting in his bed, his eyes screwed shut and tear leaking out of them. Dean was holding Sam's head in his hands, trying to get his brother to wake up.

"C'mon, Sam, show me those pale green eyes of yours..."

Sam suddenly woke with a gasp. His glassy eyes immediately focused on Dean and Sam flung his arms up and wrapped them around his brother.

"Oof! Sam..." Dean wrapped his arms around Sam and rubbed his back comfortingly. "You okay, buddy?"

Sam nodded. "Jus a nightmare..."

Dean frowned. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

Sam shook his head. "Jus a nightmare."

Dean placed a hand on the back of Sam's head. "You're shaking, buddy. You sure you don't wanna talk about it?"

Sam started to cry. "J-jus a n-nightm-mare..."

Dean nodded in agreement. "But a scary one at that, I'm betting."

Reluctantly, Sam pulled away from Dean's embrace. "W-where's Dad...?" he cried. "Dad's not here... where is he!?"

Dean continued to rub Sam's back while keep his own tears at bay. "We'll find him, Sammy... we will."

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	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: If I owned Supernatural, Sam and Dean would never be allowed to wear shirts  
**

**Dean is 21, almost 22. Sam is 17. (NOT WINCEST!!!)**

**Okay, I'm reminding you guys and myself... SAM IS SEVENTEEN!! As I'm writing this, I'm noticing that I'm picturing him as like a 12-14 year old, which is wrong. He is SEVENTEEN! If you guys are also picturing Sam younger, Try to keep in mind he's almost an adult XD It makes the writing more powerful in my opinion ;)**

**I have a new poll on my profile. I'm going to be really busy starting next week and might be updating less often. So I was just wondering if there were any fics in particular you wanted me to work on more than the others. VOTE AND LET ME KNOW!**

**This one's for you, Kelly! Thank you again XD  
**

**Enjoy chapter eight!  
**

* * *

"He's in this town," Sam said.

"How do you know?" Dean asked.

Sam shrugged.

They were both on Dean's bed. Dean was sitting up against the headboard while Sam was laying down next to him. After further inspecting Sam's leg, Dean couldn't figure out what was wrong with it. Just for some reason, it was hurting Sam a lot more than usual.

"So you're saying we should stay?"

Sam nodded. "Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"I-if I tell you somet'ing... promise not to be mad?"

Dean turned and repositioned himself to face Sam. "Of course."

Sam took in a shaky breath. "I t'ink... the cloaked f-figure in m' dreams... is _real._"

Dean blinked. "What? How do you know?"

Sam shook his head, his body starting to tremble. "I dunno... he's jus..." Sam grasped his head. "I can' get 'im outta my head..." he whimpered.

"Sam..." Dean took Sam's hands in his. "Do you mean to say that you think your dreams are real?"

"Kinda... sometimes."

Dean nodded and smiled. "So you think that dream you had with Dad and the figure... you think it was real?"

Sam gave a shaky nod. "Dad's chained up..." Sam started to cry. "H-hurting him..."

"Shh... It's okay, we're gonna find him, Sam."

Sam turned to his brother's chest and quietly sobbed, trying to get the unwanted images and feelings out of his head. Dean wrapped his arms around Sam and held him tightly until his sobs quieted and he calmed down.

"C'mon, kiddo..." Dean slowly unwrapped himself and stood from the bed, stretching out the kinks in his back. "We need to eat. Especially you. You've lost weight and you _know _that's not good for you."

Sam wiped the remains of the tears from his face and eyes. "M'kay..."

---

Dean ordered pizza, complete with every vegetable and meat you could imagine.

Sam was sitting on the bed with his leg hanging over the edge as he nibbled on the slice of pizza. Dean was sitting on the opposite bed, sucking it up and eating the pizza with everything on it. He had to be an example to Sam and make sure he ate everything on his plate.

When Sam had finished everything but the crust, the lights started to flicker.

Sam froze, dropping the remains on his pizza. Dean dove for his shotgun and swung it around. "Sam, get the holy water!"

Sam nodded and stumbled to their bags, frantically digging through them until he got the cannister. He stood up and stayed within inches of Dean's back turning with Dean in all directions.

"Wh-what is it?" Sam whispered.

"I dunno..." Dean replied.

The flickering continued for a minute before it stopped.

The brothers remained frozen where they stood, cautiously scaning the room. When nothing happened they both relaxed.

"That could be the first time the lights flickered when nothing was actually going on," Dean said amused. Sam smiled.

A burst of light filled the room, knocking the brothers backwards. But as soon as it was there it was gone.

Sam rubbed his head, having hit it against the wall. He rubbed his arms, trying to get the shaking to stop as he tried to stand. But his leg had other plans and kept slipping out from under him. "W-w-what was that?!" Sam asked, his terror growing.

There was no response.

Sam swallowed hard. "Dean?" He crawled to the other side of the room where he saw his brother fall. He wasn't there.

"Dean..." Sam whimpered. He placed his hands on one of the beds and shakily pulled himself onto it. Tear started to fall down his face when he looked around the room and found himself to be the only occupant.

He was alone.

---

Pain. That was the first thing Dean was aware of. Tons of it, spiking through his head in beat with his heart. He groaned and grasped his head tightly. He felt like someone was trying to pop his eyes out with their thumb.

"Dean?"

Dean jumped at the sudden noise. "Dad...?"

"Hey buddy... how you feeling?"

"Like someone's drilling a hole in my head." Dean squinted his eyes open and was relieved that where ever he was, it wasn't bright. "What the hell happened?"

"I just woke up and you were here."

Dean's eyes snapped open. "Sam!" Dean sat up and winced at the additional pain. "Where's Sam?"

John lowered his head. "Not here."

Dean's stomach clenched in fear. "Oh god... You mean he's alone!? After...!" Dean tried to crawl towards his father but was suddenly halted. Dean took in a slow breath and slowly let it out, trying to keep his anger under control. And trying to ignore the chain around his ankle. "Dad, where are we?"

John looked around the room. "In a basement."

"Yeah, I can see we're in a basement!" Dean growled in frustration as he sat against the wall. "We have to get outta here..."

"You think I haven't tried?"

"Not hard enough!" Dean barked. "Sam's either with the cloaked figure or alone in the motel -- !"

"Wait a minute," John interupted. "How do you know about that?"

"The figure?" Dean sighed. "Long story. For _later_. First we gotta get outta this shithole..."

"Now is is that anyway to show your appreciation." The figure came down the stairs with a visible smirk.

"Where's Sam?!"

"Safe in his motel room..."

Dean jerked on his chains, trying to lunge at the son of a bitch. "I'm gonna kill you so slowly...!"

The figure laughed. "As soon as you get yourself free, you go ahead and try that."

"Why are you doing this?" John growled.

The figure chuckled. "This is a test, Johnny. I wanna see how Sam can preform on his own."

Dean frowned incredulously. "Why? Why torture Sam like that?! What possible purpose could this have?!"

"You're assuming I have a purpose beyond enjoying watching all of you struggle?" The figure laughed at Dean's enraged expression. "Oh, there's a reason. But I don't feel like telling you."

"And what if Sam doesn't do anything?" John asked. "What if he sits in the corner of that motel room, just begging us to come back home?"

"Then that's the result of my test. Though, I highly doubt that's what Sam's gonna do. His connection with you two is uncanny. Especially with you, Deano. He'll try to find in his own way."

With that, the figure disappeared, leaving behind a bottle of water for each of the Winchesters.

John and Dean looked at each other with worried gazes.

"Now what?" Dean asked.

---

For an unmeasured amount of time, Sam just lay on the bed, shaking and crying with fear. After a while, his tears were gone and left nothing but a quivering body.

_What do I do now?_

* * *

**Please don't kill me...**

**Remember to take my poll!  
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	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: If I owned Supernatural, Sam and Dean would never be allowed to wear shirts  
**

**Dean is 21, almost 22. Sam is 17. (NOT WINCEST!!!)**

**Okay, I'm reminding you guys and myself... SAM IS SEVENTEEN!! As I'm writing this, I'm noticing that I'm picturing him as like a 12-14 year old, which is wrong. He is SEVENTEEN! If you guys are also picturing Sam younger, Try to keep in mind he's almost an adult XD It makes the writing more powerful in my opinion ;)**

**I found this chapter to come naturally, but the writing itself was okay. Review to let me know what you think :P**

**(By the way, from now on, my main focuses are going to be this, Lightness and Darkness, and Soldier. I'll update Absolute Survival and Alone every now and then, but those three stories are priority :P)  
**

**Enjoy chapter nine!  
**

* * *

Sam sat up on the bed, holding his trembling body tightly, staring into space. He had no idea how long he's been alone now. An hour? A day? A week? It didn't really matter. All that mattered was that he was alone. Someone... no, some_thing_ took Dean away. Sam automatically assumed that whatever took Dean, also had his dad.

Sam took in a shaky breath and let it out slowly. _I can't just sit here! Dean and Dad could be in trouble and I'm the only one who can save them._ The mere thought of it made Sam want to crawl into a corner and cry. How was _he_ supposed to find and save them? He could barely use a weapon. He usually got scared stiff when he fought something, especially when he's alone, and his leg was still incredibly painful.

He turned himself to the side and let his normal leg hang over the side of the bed. He couldn't just _sit_ there. He tried desperately not to think about the outside world, the people that would be there... Instead he carefully started to walk over to their bags. He whimpered and clutched his leg as sharp pain shot up its length. "What the hell's wrong?!" Sam cried, sinking to the floor. He rubbed his leg hard, focusing on the areas where the doctor cut his leg open. He traced the scars with his fingers through the jeans, remembering that day with perfect detail. When he tried to desperately to float away, to fall asleep, to just _get away!_ But he couldn't. He couldn't when his muscle was being forced apart, he couldn't when the doctor cut into his bone...

Sam closed his eyes and shook his head. He couldn't do this now. He needed to stay here. He needed to be able to find his family. Taking another deep breath, he crawled over to the bags and pulled out Dean's pistol. He tucked it into his jeans like he's seen Dean do and quickly looked for his father's journal. Of all the items they owned, these were the most valuable.

Now there was only one thing left to do. A self-crash-course on driving.

Sam pulled himself into standing position, biting his lip hard at the pain from his leg. Then he slowly hobbled over to the table, where Dean's leather jacket, and the Impala's keys were. He put on Dean's jacket and shoved his hands into the pockets, immediately feeling the keys. Dean taught him how to drive once he became sixteen. However he never got his license, or even actually _drove._

When he exited the motel room, he stared at the Impala apprehensively. _If I tr__y and drive it, but then I crash it, Dean'll get mad at me. But if I don't, I'll have to walk everywhere with no protection whatsoever and Dean'll _still_ get mad at me._ Sam sighed as he wrapped his arms around himself. Even if he _could_ drive without crashing? Where would he go? Sam stepped back until his back hit the wall. He slid down until he was curled up in the ground.

"Where are you, Dean?" he begged.

---

With the small about of space the chain allowed, Dean paced. He already searched himself for a paperclip or something of the sort, but came up with nada. Now he had to think of some other way to get the hell out of that shit hole.

"Dean, stop pacing."

"Screw you," Dean growled, never pausing in his step.

"What did you say to me?" John said incredulously.

"I said, screw you! Sam is alone, probably terrified beyond belief, and that fucking _figure_ wants him to _find_ _us_?! Sam always shuts down when he's near people. If he tried to find us, he's going to have to talk to _people_, and he just won't be able to do that. Or what if someone finds him and locks him up. Or worse, turns him over to CPS...!"

"Dean! Calm down!"

"Don't tell me to fucking calm down!"

"Well getting worked up like this isn't helping!"

Dean froze in his step. He sighed angrily as he rammed a fist into the wall. "This is all just so _fucked!_"

"I know." John sighed. "I know."

"You've tried to escape?"

"Yes, Dean, I've tried every possibility," John said, getting a little annoyed with his son. "The only time he lets us out of these chains is to let us go to the bathroom. BUt then we don't even have control of our bodies, it seems. I tried to do anything _but_ go to the bathroom during those times, but I can't."

"Well, our friend's certainly not human," Dean said. "With the whole, control you/bright flash thing."

"I already know it's a demon, Dean."

Dean looked at his father in surprise. "And how exactly do you know that?"

John closed his eyes and sighed. "Because I've been tracking it."

Dean gave a laugh of disbelief. "And you failed to mention this to me or Sam."

"I wanted to be sure before I told you anything."

"Oh, great idea! Look at our situation! You've done a bang-up job, Dad!"

"Don't talk to me like that! I was doing what I thought was best for us!"

"You should have trusted us, Dad!"

"I do trust you! That's not the point!"

"Then what's the point?! Why did you keep this from us?! What was so dangerous that you had to hide this!?" Dean screamed.

John gave Dean a measured look. "Dean..."

"No. You tell me, now."

John sighed. "The cloaked figure, the demon, is what killed your mother.

---

_A blue sedan pulled up in front of a small brick house at 7382 Woodshire Ln. A young man stepped out of his car and locked it. He walked to his mailbox, retrieved the mail, slowly looked through it while walking back to the house._

_"Don!"_

_The man turned and smiled as his neighbor walked up with his greyhound. "Hey, Pete."_

_"Haven't seen you or Lisa in days! What have you been up to?"_

_"Lisa's been sick with the flu," Don said, clearly upset about it. "She should be fine, but it's put her out of commission for at least another week."  
_  
_"Oh, that awful! How are you holding up?"_

_"I've still had to go to work, but I've been busy taking care of her in my off hours."_

_"Well, don't let me keep you any longer. Go take care of that wife of yours!"_

_Don smiled. "Thanks, Pete."_

_Pete nodded and continued to walk his dog as Don walked up the driveway. He unlocked the front door and walked inside. After he closed the door, he dropped the mail to the ground and stepped over Lisa's body without a care in the world._

_He pulled out a key and unlocked the padlock on the basement door. He pulled a cloak over his head and smiled. "Time to have some fun."_

---

Sam woke with a start. He was still curled against the wall in front of the motel room, shaking hard.

_That's where they are..._ Sam said to himself in his head. _7382 Woodshire Ln..._ Sam shakily grabbed the knob of the motel door and pulled himself up. He unlocked the door and quickly went inside to retrieve the map.

_I'm coming, Dean... I'm coming._

* * *

**PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! REVIEWS MAKE ME HAPPY! FEED THE DRAGON!  
**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: If I owned Supernatural, Sam and Dean would never be allowed to wear shirts  
**

**Dean is 21, almost 22. Sam is 17. (NOT WINCEST!!!)**

**Okay, I'm reminding you guys and myself... SAM IS SEVENTEEN!! As I'm writing this, I'm noticing that I'm picturing him as like a 12-14 year old, which is wrong. He is SEVENTEEN! If you guys are also picturing Sam younger, Try to keep in mind he's almost an adult XD It makes the writing more powerful in my opinion ;)**

**Thank you for all of your support guys! I know it's been a long time since I've updated and I apologize! I hope this chapter makes up for it!  
**

**Enjoy chapter ten!  
**

* * *

Sam stared at the map, a finger on his location and another on his destination. It was only about a mile away, which would be a couple minute drive. However, evaluating the car again, Sam knew he wouldn't be able to drive it. He was one healthy leg short to driving a stick.

He continued to stare at the map, his mind locked in the idea of walking there. Of running into _people_, of everyone that'll see him, label him a freak, punish him...

He looked from beginning to end, trying to determine the shortest, most isolated route. After several minutes, Sam breathed a sigh of relief when he found the perfect route. Half a block from the motel, there were woods. If he followed the road, he'd eventually be in the backyard of 7382 Woodshire lane.

Folding up the map, Sam quickly made sure he had everything of value with him. Dean's pistol, their dad's journal, Dean's jacket and the Impala keys...

Sam took a deep breath. His leg was still twinging, but the pain had mostly abated at this point.

For the sake of the journey ahead of him, he was grateful. He wrapped an arm around himself as he reached for the doorknob and stepped outside. He took another deep breath, before heading towards the woods.

---

"You son of a bitch!" Dean yelled as he pulled on the chains.

The cloaked figure smiled. "So your daddy told you who I am?"

"I swear I'm gonna rip you from the inside out," Dean growled.

The figured laughed. "Now that would be an interesting sight." He tapped the still-full water bottles with his foot and tsked. "You haven't drunk your water." He looked at the Winchesters and sighed. "Oh well. It gives me an excuse." He raised a hand and both the Winchesters were flung back against the wall. They tried to break free of the demon's hold, but it was completely in vain.

"While Sammy is taking his 'test', I'm gonna have some fun." He walked up to Dean and grasped his chin. "What do you wanna play, Deanie boy?"

Dean scoffed. "Go screw yourself."

The demon shrugged. "Suit yourself." He pressed his fingers tighter against Dean's face. Dean frowned before he let out a loud scream.

"Dean!" John yelled. He jerked uselessly against the demon's hold. "Let go of him you bastard!"

Dean blinked hard, willing his involuntary tears to go away, but the pain wouldn't allow it. It seemed as though a hot dagger was being driven into his head and twisting painfully slow...

---

Eric grumbled as he struggled to unlock the door of his car. He was carrying three bags of groceries, but didn't want to set them down because they were paper bags and the ground was wet from the recent shower.

"Stupid car, stupid groceries, stupid – " Eric stopped in his small rant as a small whimper came from behind him. He dropped the keys in surprised and turned around. "Who's there?"

There was some harsh breathing, but no other noises. Thinking it was a dog, Eric put the groceries down, _screw the rain!_, grabbed his keys and quickly opened the car door. He quickly placed the bags inside and was about to go sit in the driver's seat when he heard a small plea.

"Please… 'M sorree…"

Eric frowned. Last he knew, dogs didn't make noises like that. "Hello?" he called. He frowned when he heard a small gasp and a shift of clothing. Curiosity taking over, he closed the door to his car and slowly walked towards the source of the sounds.

Tucked between a garbage can and the wall of a store, a young man, no older than eighteen, was curled up. His leg twisted to the side, his hands clutching his heads desperately. "Hey, you okay?"

The kid didn't respond. Instead he continued to whimper and clutch his head.

"Are you hurt?" Eric sighed when the boy remained as he was. He flipped out his cell. "I'm calling 911…"

"N-no…"

Eric looked at the boy in surprise. He was looking up at him now, his eyes glassy and full of pain and fear.

"N-not… back…"

Eric frowned as he shut his cell. "Alright. Kid, can you tell me what's wrong?"

Sam looked at the man in front of him carefully. He didn't feel like he wanted to punish him… why? Why was he trying to help him? Sam cringed and grabbed is head again as sharp pain shot through his skull.

Eric was at a loss for words. The kid was obviously in pain, but he didn't want to go to the hospital. Seemed _desperate_ not to go to the hospital. Eric sighed. He looked at the kid again and bit his lip. "Can you tell me where you live?"

Sam looked up at the man through tear-filled eyes. "St-top…" he begged.

"What?"

"St-toooop… hur-urting him…" Sam sobbed.

Eric shook his head and stood. He just didn't know what to do. As he turned to leave the young man behind, he heard a small plea.

"7… 38… 2… Wood… shire…"

Eric turned around with wide eyes. "What?"

Sam looked at the man pleadingly. He didn't seem to mean harm. But even if he did, if there was just a small chance that he could help Sam get to Dean… "Pl-lease…"

Eric had a questioning expression as he slowly walked back towards the young man. "Is that where you live?"

Sam shut his eyes, a few tears falling down his face as he slowly nodded his head. "Pleeeease…"

Eric sighed as he shook his head. "I must be out of my mind… Alright, Kid…" He grabbed the boy's arm to help him up, only to have the boy shout out in fear and hit the man with a weak backslap. "What the hell?!"

"I'm sorry!" Sam recoiled and flung his arms over his head. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

Eric looked at the boy, stunned. This young man in front of him was terrified. Absolutely terrified. Of _him_. Which would seem absurd considering the young man was at least six inches taller than him. But nonetheless…

Eric looked at huddled figure with a new light. "What's happened to you?" he whispered to himself. Eric leaned forward towards the young man, but made sure not to touch him. "Do you want me to help you or not?"

Sam looked up at the man through his arms and slowly nodded. "Please..."

"Then do you want me to help you up, or can you stand on your own?"

Sam blinked a few times, as if trying to comprehend the man's words. Then he slowly shifted his legs under him and leaned heavily against the wall as he shakily stood.

Eric smiled until he saw the awkward angle of Sam's right leg. "What the hell...?"

Sam looked down, ashamed. "Did... b-bad..." he murmured.

Eric looked at him pityingly. "Are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital?" Sam quickly shook his head. "Because if it's your family that's hurting you..."

Sam shook his head again, tears starting to fall more rapidly. "'E won' st-top 'urting 'im..." he whimpered childishly.

_I don't think this kid's even sane..._ Against his better judgment, Eric walked to his car, opened the passenger door and said, "You coming, or what?"

Sam's breathing started to labor as his chest constricted. The thought of being alone with a stranger in a suffocating car was almost more than he could handle. But another spike of pain shot through his head, clearing his irrational fear and reminding him why he was doing this.

"C-coming..." Sam stuttered as he limped towards the car.

* * *

**PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! REVIEWS MAKE ME HAPPY! FEED THE DRAGON!  
**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: If I owned Supernatural, Sam and Dean would never be allowed to wear shirts  
**

**Dean is 21, almost 22. Sam is 17. (NOT WINCEST!!!)**

**Okay, I'm reminding you guys and myself... SAM IS SEVENTEEN!! As I'm writing this, I'm noticing that I'm picturing him as like a 12-14 year old, which is wrong. He is SEVENTEEN! If you guys are also picturing Sam younger, Try to keep in mind he's almost an adult XD It makes the writing more powerful in my opinion ;)**

**OMG it's been FOREVER since I've updated! Nearly two months now! I'm so, so, so sorry! I hope you all haven't given up on me! I'm hoping to be back to regular updates now!  
**

**Enjoy chapter eleven!**

* * *

Sam had himself pressed against the passenger door. The stranger's presence filling his heart with fear and dread. The pain in his head had subsided and Sam knew that Dean wasn't in any more pain.

For now.

Sam closed his eyes and stuck his hands in the pockets of Dean's leather jacket. Sam could still smell Dean on the jacket. The smell that, for over four years now, lulled him to sleep and protected him from all the evils in the world and in his head.

"We're here," Eric said.

Sam jumped a little, having momentarily forgotten where he was. Sam looked up and shivered as the house from his dreams filled his vision. He crumpled in on himself, fear suddenly paralyzing him. _No! Dean's just beyond that door! Just get out and get him!_ But even still, Sam had no idea how he was going to save his brother, and his fear was making it harder for him to think.

Eric frowned. He really had no idea what to make of this situation. Here he was, an almost-adult teen huddled in his car, seemingly afraid to go into his own house. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Sam jerked, abruptly turning around and staring at Eric with wide eyes.

"Son... is your family hurting you?"

Sam shook his head hard. "Gotta h-help..."

Eric sighed. "Alright then. Then git!"

Sam's chest tightened at the clear dismissal. He stumbled with the door handle and ended up spilling out of the car onto the hard pavement.

Eric leaned over and quickly closed the door and drove off fast, the kid starting to get just a little _too_ creepy for him.

For a moment, Sam just wanted to curl up and ignore the world, but then he remembered why he was here and shakily pulled himself into standing position. His leg burned with the effort. It felt as though a thousand needles were being driven into his leg and rotated around. A few tears escaped as Sam held the light pole for support. Sam looked back at the house and did a mental gulp. Sam reached for the back of his jeans and pulled out Dean's pistol. With shaky hands, he checked the clip and quickly shoved it back into the gun. Taking a deep breath, he started walking towards the house.

---

Dean breathed heavily as the pain in his head faded. His eyes slowly cleared and the smug smile was still in his face.

"W-what are y-you smilin' at..." Dean stuttered out. He looked around at his father and saw him across the room, unconscious. "W-what did you do to him!?" Dean demanded, his voice starting to return.

The demon shrugged. "He was making too much of a racket. Hurts my head."

Dean chuckled. "And my screaming was just soothing."

The demon's smile widened. "But of course! Nothing quite like the sounds of pain and misery to make up my day!"

Dean was about to respond when the unmistakable sound of a door opening echoed through the house.

Dean and the demon both stilled. When seconds later, the sound of the door being slowly shut reached their ears.

The blood drained from Dean's face. He automatically knew who had opened that door and dread filled his heart.

The demon chuckled. "Well that was faster than I expected... Excellent."

"Leave him alone!" Dean said quietly. He knew that if he yelled for Sam to run or leave, Sam wouldn't just because he would know that Dean was there.

The demon kept his face looking upward, apparently following Sam's movements through the floorboards. "Oh, Deano-boy... I have to give little Sammy _somewhat_ of a challenge." With this said, the demon snapped his fingers.

---

Sam slowly walked through the house, the pistol shaking hard in his hand. _The basement... I have to find the basement door_...

"Sammy!"

Sam whirled around and nearly collapsed with relief when Dean came out of the other room, bearing a few scrapes and bruises, but otherwise fine.

"Dean!" Sam lowered the pistol and ran as fast as his tortured limp would allow towards Dean. "Thank god your -- !"

Dean's face suddenly transformed into an ugly expression of hate as he brought his arm back and backslapped Sam across the face. Taken by surprise, Sam fell hard against the hardwood floor, the pistol flying out of his hands. Stunned, Sam brought a hand to his cheek and looked at Dean with hurt in his eyes. "D-Dean...?"

"I am so sick of you..." Dean said deadly quiet. He stepped up and grabbed Sam by the front of his clothes, lifted him in the air, and slammed him against a wall. Sam gasped as the pain shot up through his back. Tears came to his eyes as he looked at his brother pleadingly. "D-De..."

"Shut up!" Dean spat, spit flying at Sam's face. "Shut your fucking mouth, you whore!" Dean kneed Sam in the stomach, making Sam jerk forward as his body tried to double over.

_This is a dream..._ Sam reasoned. _This has to be a dream..._

"Sorry, _Sammy_, but this is reality." He tossed Sam's body onto the floor and stood over him as a show of dominance.

Sam looked up at his brother, sobs making their way out of him. His body shook with shock and fear as he slowly crawled backwards away from Dean. "Pl-lease... d-don't..."

Dean smiled cruelly. "What? Don't hurt you? Rape you? 'Course it wouldn't be rape, because I know you like it." When Sam shook his head in denial, Dean just laughed. "Oh yes you do! You're just a filthy masochist who leeches off of others. I don't know why it took me so long... but now I realize. I should have left you on that road that day."

Sam expected his body to start shutting down. If Dean didn't want him, then there was nothing left for him. There was just one problem though.

Sam knew this wasn't Dean.

If Sam wasn't dreaming, than they only other option was that this wasn't Dean. Because no matter what, Dean would never say these things to him.

But that still didn't numb the pain they inflicted.

"Hey! You paying attention!" Dean swiftly kicked Sam in his side, making Sam's body jerk grotesquely and more tears to fall. Dean knelt down and grabbed Sam's hair, pulling his head up. Sam gasped as his head was yanked up cruelly, more tears leaking out of his tearducts. "How's it feel, Sammy? You getting off it? Huh?" Dean slapped Sam across the face a couple times, making Sam moan in pain. "You like that, huh? Makes you feel good?"

Sam started to sob. Even with the knowledge that this wasn't Dean, his fractured mind was slowly cracking at the abuse.

"Maybe I should start using you instead, huh? What do you think about that?" Dean roughly grabbed Sam's chin, forcing the younger man to look at him. "I bet I could make a profit, even out of a twisted freak like you." He then leaned forward and bite Sam's neck, making him yelp. Dean sucked on the area for a few seconds before chuckling. "What d'ya think? Aren't I good to you?"

Old habits resurfacing, Sam nodded, making Dean grin. "Do you want more?" Sam's body trembled harder, his tears blinding him as he nodded.

Dean laughed as he hauled Sam onto his feet and slammed him against the wall with his body. "Where do you want the hurt first, Sammy?"

Sam shook his head. "F-first..."

Dean into Sam's eyes. "Yes?"

Sam looked up and made eye contact, flinching at the cold hardness there. Sam gave a small smile as he whispered, "Go to hell."

---

Dean jerked as the sound of a gunshot echoed from above him. "SAM!"

* * *

**Okay, favor it ask**. **Can you guys watch this, **

**.com/watch?v=4m064pRqqsI&feature=channel_page**

**and let me know what you think? It's a serious consideration, but I might not...  
**

**PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! REVIEWS MAKE ME HAPPY! FEED THE DRAGON!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: If I owned Supernatural, Sam and Dean would never be allowed to wear shirts  
**

**Dean is 21, almost 22. Sam is 17. (NOT WINCEST!!!)**

**Okay, I'm reminding you guys and myself... SAM IS SEVENTEEN!! As I'm writing this, I'm noticing that I'm picturing him as like a 12-14 year old, which is wrong. He is SEVENTEEN! If you guys are also picturing Sam younger, Try to keep in mind he's almost an adult XD It makes the writing more powerful in my opinion ;)**

**WARNING: Sexual innuendos (but honestly, if you've made it through both my stories so far, this warning really isn't necessary :P)  
**

**Enjoy chapter twelve!**

**

* * *

**

Sam lay on the floor, shaking and sobbing.

In front of him, lay Dean's body. Eyes wide in shock when Sam shot him straight in the heart. As the blood spilled, Sam had a fleeting thought. _What if it was Dean...? Oh god, did I just kill Dean?!_ That's when the sobs started to bubble up out of his throat.

Then, a new feeling took over Sam. One he didn't recognize, but he knew what it meant.

The only thing that could have caused Dean to act like this was the demon. It was the only explanation. The demon forced Dean to hurt him. The demon forced Dean...

_Kill the demon_.

Sam's own punishment for killing Dean would come later. First, Sam had to kill the demon, chop it up into tiny pieces for what it did to his brother.

_Basement... I bet it's in the basement..._ Wiping his tears away, Sam shakily got up, the pain in his leg seemingly numbed by this new feeling of Sam's. Stiff and sore from the abuse Dean caused, Sam's progress was slower than he liked, but he managed. He came to the basement door and pulled it open. As quickly as his body would allow, Sam ran down the staircase, using the railing and wall to swing and skip a few steps along the way.

When Sam reached the bottom, his vision tunneled and only the cloaked figure was seen, standing in the middle of the room. Driven only by this new feeling, Sam brought the pistol up and fired. He fired again and again and again... until the magazine was empty.

The demon looked down at his chest and sighed. "That stung..." He looked back up at Sam's suddenly fearful face and sighed. "You know, I liked the look you had in our eyes a few moments ago a _lot_ better." He flicked his wrist and Sam was pinned to the wall, a chain appearing from nowhere and securing his ankle.

After Sam recovered from the shock of... everything, Sam managed to look up and around his surroundings. His insides practically tied themselves in a knot at the sight of his family across the room. "D-De!" Sam yelled, crawling forward to his brother.

"Not so fast!" the demon spat. He placed a foot into Sam's back and slammed him against the floor.

"Stop it!" Dean yelled. "Leave him alone, you son of a bitch!"

The demon just smiled. "You came here alone?" he said to Sam.

Sam looked up fearfully, cowering away from it. "Y-y-yes..." he stammered out.

The demon chuckled, taking his foot off of Sam. "How noble! You didn't want your family to be hurt, so you came to sacrifice yourself! Oh, that's just too sweet!"

Sam swallowed hard. _My dream... This is my dream!_ The suddenly elation of finding his brother alive and relatively well was numbed the realization of what was about to happen. _Like a script... just follow the lines._ He sat up straight and tried to put on a brave face. "L-let them go..."

The demon smiled. "You mean them?"

He pointed to the opposite corner of the room, where John was unconscious and in chains and Dean was pulling furiously on his. "Don't you even think about it, Sammy!"

Sam nodded. "Please..."

The demon stepped closer to Sam. "And what will you give me in return?"

Sam's body started to shake. "A-anyth-thing..."

"Really...?" The demon stuck his foot in Sam's groin and started to wiggle it around, making Sam involuntarily moan.

"Stop it, you sonovabitch!" Dean growled.

The demon laughed as he pulled his foot away and Sam curled in on himself, shaking even harder than before. "You sure about this?" the demon asked with mock seriousness. "I mean, I could just kill them and you could go free..."

"No!" Sam slowly uncurled his shaking body. _Please forgive me_, Sam thought meeting Dean's eyes. He looked back at the demon. "I-I'll do... anyth-thing..."

The demon smiled, the twisted gesture one of victory. "Good."

The room filled with light then, nothing.

---

When Dean woke, he shot up and first realized that they were back in their motel room. He quickly looked around. Everything seemed fine. His jacket was hanging on the rack, the Impala keys and John's journal were on the table, John himself was still sleeping. Everything seemed back to normal.

Dean swung his legs over the side of the bed and sighed. He was hungry. He got up and didn't even wonder why he was already completely clothed.

He wrote his dad a quick note, telling him he was getting breakfast, before grabbing the keys to the Impala and his leather jacket.

When he slid into his car and started the ignition, he frowned. Something didn't seem right... Was he forgetting anything? Dean looked around before shaking his head, feeling stupid. "I'm getting breakfast," Dean murmured to himself as he pulled out of the motel parking lot. "What could I possibly be forgetting?"

---

The demon sighed. "Welcome to home sweet home!"

Sam looked around the new environment he had suddenly been thrust into. He didn't like it. It was cold and dank. The walls, floor, ceiling, were all made of concrete. A few lines of plumbing lined the ceiling, most of them dripping and leaking. The only source of light was a single window, at the moment, only allowing a small sliver of moonlight to get in.

There was no door.

_At least my family's not here_, Sam thought. From now on, that would have to be what Sam hung on to.

The demon turned to Sam and smirked. Sam was very tall. Handsome too. Unfortunately it wasn't all that apparent. Sam hunched over, his arms crossed across his chest, making him seem a good few inches shorter than he actually was. Sam's hair was long and floppy, but it made him seem depressed and dirty, and what was it kids called it these days.... oh yes, emo.

"You know, for a seventeen year old, your not all that impressive."

Sam made no response, just simply stood there.

The demon sighed. "Alright. Ground rules. You address me by 'sir' or 'master.' Anything else and you will be punished. You will treat me, your trainers, and my guests with full respect. You do anything dissatisfactory, and you will be punished. And lastly, you _ever_ mention John or Dean Winchester and you will find yourself hanging from your _dick_ from the ceiling, do I make myself clear?"

Sam nodded, his body trembling. "Y-yes, s-s-sir."

The demon nodded. "Good. Now," he clapped his hands together. "Time to inspect the goods. Strip."

An order. And as Sam was taught, every order must be obeyed. Sam shakily removed his clothing, vaguely realizing his leg didn't hurt anymore.

The demon stared at him with awe as he stripped. "Despite the damage, you're not bad looking." The demon sighed. "Oh, by the way, you no longer have a name. You're no longer Sam or Sammyor any other label. You are a thing. An it. I can call you whatever suits me in that moment, am I clear?"

Sam nodded, his naked body shaking harder in the cold room.

The demon flicked his wrist and Sam's clothes were gone. "You won't be needing those. Now, lay down on your stomach."

Sam did as he was told, his mind blank. His brain knew what was coming, but it didn't seem to realize that it the calamity of the situation.

The demon leaned down and pulled Sam's cheeks apart, inspecting his hole. He figured it a little, relishing the shivers and hitched breathing that it elected from the young man. "You've definitely been used, but I think it's been a few years. You seem tight again." The demon stood and said, "Get up."

Sam tried to do as the demon said, but his body was shaking so badly he couldn't get it coordinated.

The demon frowned. "I said, get up, slut."

"I-I'm t-tr-rying, s-s-sir..."

"Well not hard enough!" The demon backhandded Sam, causing him to fall back on the floor with a yelp, his shaking increasing in intensity. The demon sighed, trying to control its anger. He bent down and petted Sam's hair, making him cringe. "You try to get some sleep. Your induction ceremony is tomorrow morning and I want you in top shape!" With this, the demon disappeared.

Sam slowly dragged his shaking, naked body to the corner of the small room. He curled up in a tight ball and tried thinking about his previous life, not wanting to face the horrors of this new existance.

_Maybe this is my destiny_, Sam thought. _The... W-Winchesters..._ Sam was almost afraid to even _think_ their name, _were the only ones who don't treat me like this. Maybe they were wrong and this is who I really am..._ Even with this in mind, Sam clutched his head and tried to bury himself with memories of the Winchesters, especially of Dean. But instead, all that came up was Greg and his childhood nightmares.

_At least they're safe_, Sam thought. _At least they aren't here..._

At least they were safe.

* * *

**Sooo...? Review and let me know what you think :)  
**

**PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! REVIEWS MAKE ME HAPPY! FEED THE DRAGON!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: If I owned Supernatural, Sam and Dean would never be allowed to wear shirts  
**

**Dean is 21, almost 22. Sam is 17. (NOT WINCEST!!!)**

**I'm so sorry for the delay! I've been kinda busy and I just got back from a trip... I hope this chapter makes up for it!  
**

**WARNING: Sexual innuendos and non-graphic torture (but honestly, if you've made it through both my stories so far, this warning really isn't necessary :P)  
**

**Enjoy chapter thirteen!**

**

* * *

**

When Dean came back, he dumped the Impala keys on the counter and dropped one of the bags of food on his waking father's lap. "You're usually up first, Dad. You're losing your touch."

John grumbled incoherently. "Yeah, well you didn't just spend the night exorcising a demon..."

"No, I was just keeping guard while you were doing so." Dean shook his head in amusement and opened up his own food.

John frowned at his son. "Dean?"

"Yeah, what?" Dean said as he took another bite out of his breakfast sandwich.

"Why do you have a fruit cup and a small omelet? I mean, even if you were _starving_ I didn't think you'd ever touch fruit..."

Dean frowned. He picked up the fruit cup with a frown. "I... I don't know. I'm not even that hungry..."

John raised an eyebrow. "You okay, son?"

Dean didn't answer, he just stared at the cup. That nagging feeling of forgetting something was back, telling him there was a _reason_ he bought that fruit cup and omelet.

Dean blinked. _What the hell? A reason I bought a fruit cup?! I must be more tired than I thought..._ Dean turned around and tossed the fruit in the trash. "Whatever. I must not have been paying attention when I was ordering."

John shrugged and continued to eat his breakfast.

---

When the demon came back, he spent a moment to just stare at the young man's sleeping form. His naked form curled up tightly, tear stains running down his face, sucking gently on his fingers... it was enough to make him so excited! The demon sighed to himself. He'd have to wait just a little longer. He stepped up and violently grabbed the wrist of the hand Sam was sucking on and pulled it out with a hard yank.

Sam gasped loudly and whimpered at the sudden wake up call. The demon pulled him up to his feet and ordered him to stay standing. Sam complied, shaking from the cold and the deep set fear.

The demon laughed. "How was your night, slut?"

"G-g-good...s-s-sir..." Sam said quietly.

The demon smiled, placing a hand on Sam's chest and ghosting it over his abdomen. For such a pathetic creature, he had a nice set of muscles. He could even trace the barely visible abs, making Sam shiver.

"I'm going to run you through a few tests before the ceremony," the demon said, his hand lowering to Sam's crotch. Sam's breathing hitched and a tear fell down his face. "How well you pass the tests determines how you get punished tonight." The demon squeezed the young man's testicles, making him gasp in pain. "Understand?"

"Y-y-yes, m-mast-ter... p'ease..." Sam sobbed.

The demon backslapped Sam, the man's entire body slamming against the wall. "You only get to beg when I tell you to, slut."

Sam started to frantically nod. "Y-y-yes, m-master... 'M s-sorry..."

The demon smiled, satisfied. He placed a hand under Sam's cheek and gently lifted his face. "You're going to do great things. But unfortunately, I have to make sure you're absolutely broken. If there is even a sliver of the you of the present still in you after I'm done, this won't work."

Sam didn't understand what the demon was saying, but he nodded. He silently begged to be back with his brother. To let Dean wrap his arms around him and drive the nightmares away.

_At least he's not here._

"Now," the demon went on. "For your first test." He snapped his fingers and another demon appeared. He was holding a nine-tailed whip. "All you have to do is stand there," the demon explained. "Do not step forward, do not step back. Don't kneel or fall to the ground. Understand?"

"Y-yes, mast-ter."

The demon nodded to the torturer, who smirked at Sam with a vicious glint in his eyes. He brought his arm up and swung down with a loud _thwack!_

Sam cried out as the tails hit his side, red welts already raising. Tears fell down his face as his body continued to tremble. But he did not move.

"I want you to count," the torture demon sneered. "After every ten strokes, I will increase the strength. Understand?"

Sam's trembled harder. _How can the strokes get harder?!_ "Y-yes, s-s-sir."

It went on for what seemed like forever. They only managed to get to twelve when Sam fell to his knees sobbing. Fearing punishment, he quickly forced himself to standing position, but the damage was done. The cloaked demon tisked. "I expected better from you. I really did."

The torturer continued his task until they reached seventy-two, when Sam fell to the ground and didn't get back up. He was frantically sucking on his fingers as he sobbed. His entire body throbbed with welts, many of them bleeding. Every time he moved, one sort of agony or another would make itself known. He had lost count of how many times he had broken the demon's rules. But now he would pay dearly for them later.

The cloaked demon knelt next to Sam and patted him condescendingly on the head. "Now, now, pet... there's only three more tests to go before the ceremony. I'm sure you'll be fine until then."

---

"I think I found our next gig," John said. "It's a few states from here, looks to be a rawhead." John looked at his watch. "We can probably make it by tomorrow afternoon if we go now and through the night..." He looked at his son for a response to find that he wasn't even paying attention. "Dean!"

Dean jumped, averting his eyes away from the window and back to his father. "I've been listening."

"What did I just say?" John asked disbelievingly.

"You found a new job."

"And what's the job?"

Dean blinked. "Uhhh... a spirit?"

John sighed as he closed the laptop. "Dean, what's up?"

Dean sighed. "I don't know... It's just... Dad, do you really think the demon's gone from here?"

John frowned. "We exorcised him, didn't we?"

"I know but... I just... have this feeling, you know? Like something's not right."

John sighed. "Dean, we've taken care of the demon. There aren't any signs of anything else supernatural here."

"Dad," Dean said imploringly, "You always tell me to trust my instincts, and my instincts are screaming that something's not right!"

John continued to look at Dean with doubt. "Son..."

"Dad, _please!_ Can we just stay for a couple more days! Just to make sure everything's okay?"

John sighed looking back down at the laptop. "How about I go take care of this," he pointed at laptop, "while you stay here. If you haven't found anything by the time I get back, we're leaving, okay?"

Dean smiled. "Thanks, Dad."

---

Sam sat shivering in his corner, sucking on his fingers and staring into space. The demons had left him alone for now. The tests were over. It was time for the ceremony.

All of the tests seemed to be based on following orders. The second test had been to put himself into different positions, according to what the master said. All the positions were humiliating and degrading, not that Sam could degrade any further.

The third test he was ordered not to say or make a single sound. The torturer stimulated him and slapped him soundly for over an hour. Sam was sure he would be punished dearly for the gasps and occasional whimper he made.

The fourth and final test was the worst. He was made to repeat everything the cloaked demon said. Any hesitation, mispronunciation, or stuttering would count as disobeying his orders. Sam failed this test miserably, but that wasn't why it was the worse.

The things they made him say made him want to kill himself. He called himself a fucking slut, good for nothing else but display and playing with. He praised the demon and thanked him for everything he had and was going to do to him. He begged the demon to slap him, and he did. Afterward, Sam begged for more.

He said that Dean was a bitch that deserved to die and that John should shoot himself for everything he's done.

Sam's mind was now blank as he stared into space. He curled into a tighter ball to keep warm and to disappear. Drool dripped down his hand and arm and he didn't care. His eyes were swollen half-shut and his lips were swollen and purple from being slapped around for the last several hours.

Suddenly, the demon was back. Sam pulled his fingers out of his mouth and slowly crawled towards him.

The demon knelt down and patted Sam's head. "Are you ready for your induction ceremony?"

"Y-yes, m-m-master," Sam said quietly, his head bowed down.

"Good." The demon snapped his fingers and Sam suddenly found himself bound tightly down to a table, his twisted leg pulled into an uncomfortable position.

Sam looked around and nearly stopped breathing at the sight of a dozen black-eyed demons, naked, and standing in a circle around him.

The cloaked demon, now reaching for its hood, removed his cloak to reveal his own naked body, and his bright yellow eyes.

He smiled at Sam and said, "Let the ceremony begin."

* * *

**Sooo...? Review and let me know what you think :)  
**

**PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! REVIEWS MAKE ME HAPPY! FEED THE DRAGON!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: If I owned Supernatural, Sam and Dean would never be allowed to wear shirts  
**

**Dean is 21, almost 22. Sam is 17. (NOT WINCEST!!!)**

**WARNING: violence and sexual assault, non-graphic**

**There's a huge revelation in this chapter so i hope you enjoy!  
**

**Enjoy chapter fourteen!**

* * *

_Okay... what am I looking for again?_

Dean was literally walking randomly through the town. He had no idea why he told his father he would stay to investigate further. Yes, it was a feeling, but it was a feeling with no evidence for basis.

The exorcism was over. There were no more demonic signs in the area or signs of anything else.

So why was Dean so restless? Why was there this nagging feeling that Dean was overlooking something vital.

Dean passed by the house where the exorcism took place. Dean stared at the house for a moment, recalling the exorcism. There wasn't anything strange about it. Just another day in the job.

He continued to walk down the street, pondering what he should do now. With really no idea what he was looking for, how was he supposed to look?

Dean looked up into the sky with an annoyed expression. "C'mon... Give me something!"

---

The yellow-eyed demon rubbed his hands all over Sam's body. He traced the edges of the old burn scars on his side and arm, he caressed the stretch marks on his leg... every blemish he caressed and fingered with pleasure.

As he traced down the scar across Sam's face, Sam started to sob. The staring demons and the naked on pressed on top of him was starting to become too much for the young man's fragile psyche.

The yellow-eyed demon was caressing the nape of Sam's neck when he felt the scars there. He painfully pulled Sam's head up, electing a gasp from him, and stared at the scars there. The words 'Freak' and 'Village whore' were etched there.

The demon chuckled as he placed Sam's head back down. "Freak? Village whore? If only those simpletons knew..." The demon leaned down and whispered in Sam's ear, "I really didn't mean for you to end up in that situation... but I suppose it was inevitable." The demon sat back up, straddling Sam's chest. "You see, sex is a show of domination. Whoever has the power, whoever is causing the pain, is the one in charge. After today, you will see that you are truely at the bottem of the food chain."

The demons circled around them begun to chant. It was a gutteral language, the rhythm of the chant seemed to reverbrate around the room, shaking it's occupants.

The yellow-eyed-demon clutched Sam's head between his two hands. "You are mine, you dirty little slut. And it's about time I showed you why." The demon squeezed Sam's head.

Sam's eyes widened as dark tendrils seemed to stab his mind, reaching and dominating his brain. He screamed as white hot pain exploded in his head, everything around him darkening and morphing...

---

_Sam was floating. He was in a dark room, moonlight the only source of illumination.  
_

_A couple were in bed, amongst the throes of ecstasy. Their moans filled the room, their love obvious and intense. Sam almost felt jealous at the obvious affection the couple shared. It was an affection he knew he'd never feel._

_The room blurred again. When it cleared, it was the same room, but now the couple were asleep. The woman's breathing changed as she woke. She looked at her partner before throwing the covers back and climbing out of bed._

_The room blurred again and cleared to a hallway. A toilet flushed and the woman walked out, her eyes still filled with sleep_. _She was walking back to her room when the light at the end of the hallway flickered. She frowned as she stepped up to it and tapped it a few times. The flickering stopped._

_Sam frowned at all of this. Why was the demon showing him this? What possible significance could it have?_

_"Hmm..." The woman shook her head at the light. She turned to go back to the bedroom when a clatter sounded from the lower level. Her brow furrowed. She slowly walked down the stairs and into the living room where the sound came from. Sam seemed to have no control over his form as it followed her._

_A man stood in the middle of the living room._

_"Who the hell are you!?" the woman asked angrily._

_The man turned and raised an arm. She stiffened. Suddenly, her eyes started to liquefy. She opened her mouth to scream but nothing came out. Her eyes melted out of her sockets before the man flicked his wrist and her head twisted, breaking her neck.  
_

_Sam wanted to throw up at the murder he just witnessed. He wanted to shut his eyes and block out the pathetic body laying limp and blood on the floor. But he couldn't. The show wasn't over yet.  
_

_The man bent down over the woman and held a hand over her lower stomach. Suddenly he plunged his hand into her lower abdomen, reaching for something._

_When he pulled his hand back out, his hand was bloody but the woman's body looked untouched where the man had penatrated her. The man looked at his hand and smiled. "You are mine."_

_The room blurred. When it came into focus, the man was gone and it was early morning.  
_

_A young boy crawled down the staircase. He looked to be three or four years old. He was smiling happily as he made it to the bottem of the stairs and quickly ran foward.  
_

_The boy froze a few feet away from the body. His eyes widened at the sight of his mother's ruined body. "M-mommy..." the little boy whimpered. The boy's face twisted in fear and confusion as he screamed. "MOMMY!!"_

_A sense of dread and fear creeped into Sam's mind as he watched the scene unfold before him. Pieces of an impossible puzzle started to piece itself together._

_Liquified eyes... broken neck... a little boy finding her body in the morning..._

_"Oh god..." Sam breathed._

_That little boy was Dean. And the woman laying dead before him... was his mother._

_'You are mine,' the demon's voice echoed._

_Sam stopped breathing.  
_

_That woman was Sam's mother.  
_

_Sam screamed._

_---_

Dean continued to walk around the neighborhoods, looking for, listening for, _feeling_ for, anything out of place.

It took a lot sooner then he expected it to.

He remembered the empty lot at the end of a street, near where the exorcism was. Dean remembered it because it was between two other houses, and he thought it strange that no one ever built there.

He had just walked passed it.

It wasn't empty.

Instead a small stone structure was there. It was about the size of a small house, perfectly cubical. No decoration whatsoever. If Dean hadn't been curious, he would have thought it was just a giant block of stone.

But considering it hadn't been there the previous day, Dean was damned curious.

Dean circled it, running his hand along the smooth surface. When he reached the northside of it, he saw a small square hole cut out of it.

_So the inside's hallow_, Dean thought. He frowned. He could hear a low murmur coming from the small window. It was barely audible, but there.

_The question is... how do I get inside?_ There was no door or any other opening. Which suggested that whoever housed themselves in there was supernatural in nature.

Dean quickly thought up of a plan and headed back to the motel. _I'll do it tonight when I won't attract any attention._

---

Sam sobbed pitifully. The images of Dean's dead mother, (_my mother...) _refused to get pushed to the back of his brain. His brother's cries (_brother... my real brother...) _echoed in his head, stabbing him with every wretched scream.

The demon smiled. "I'm sorry, little one," he said mockingly. "I had to show you. You had to know your true roots in order for you to eventually reach your full potential."

Sam didn't understand it and he didn't care. All he wanted to do was die now. He had killed his mother, his own mother... he ruined his father and brother's lives... how much more suffering must he cause before it finally ends...?

A blunt object ghosted over his entrance and Sam was slammed back down into reality. His body shook as he remembered the demon's earlier words.

"It's time to establish the food chain, pet," the demon said with a smile. He plunged forward, burying himself deep with one thrust.

Sam screamed at the burning pain. Sam had forgotten how much this hurts. He had forgotten the searing pain...

The demon pounded, in and out and in and out... the pain never ebbing. Sam's cries were reduced to whimpers as he was speared over and over again.

It seemed to go on forever, the accelerating tempo of the demon's thrusts, the bruising grip on his hips... but finally, the demon shook and burning warmth spread into Sam's body.

The demon extracted himself and bent down to examine the entrance. He tisked. "You're bleeding..." The demon shrugged. "Well, I can't patch you up until my servants have their fill with you.

All at once, the other demons closed in on them, hands already snaking out and caressing Sam's flesh, making him sob.

The yellow-eyed demon sighed. "Have fun, but don't cause too much damage. We just need him to know where his place is." With that, the demon vanished.

* * *

**Sooo...? Review and let me know what you think :) Feed the dragon XD  
**


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: If I owned Supernatural, Sam and Dean would never be allowed to wear shirts  
**

**Dean is 21, almost 22. Sam is 17. (NOT WINCEST!!!)**

**WARNING: violence and sexual assault, non-graphic**

**Okay, so many of you were confused about the last chapter. So I'll explain.**

**John and Mary and sex one night. I'm sure they had sex many nights but this night was special 'cause this night they conceived their second child. They didn't know this of course because it's impossible to know at the moment. Later the same night, Mary had to go to the bathroom, but she also found the yellow-eyed demon. The yellow-eyed demon killed her, taking Sam's conceived cells for himself and leaving. Therefore, Sam and Dean are real actual blood brothers, but just didn't know it. Until now. Hope that helped :)**

***Actual conversation with my mom***

_**Mom: I'm done at 7:15 so I'll be able to watch with you.**_

_**Me: Do you have to...?**_

_**Mom: Angels are calling and demons at our heals. Someone has to protect you. Do you want to get snacks?**_

_**Me: -_-'  
**_

***End conversation***

**Oh, btw, I'm starting a new story soon, it's kinda weird and if people don't like it, I won't really work on it, cause this and Lightness and Darkness are my main priorities now that school's started :)  
**

**Enjoy chapter fifteen!**

* * *

Dean stared at his supplies, trying to figure out how exactly he was going to do this. The only plausible solution was to climb up to that small window and see what was going on inside. Most likely it was something supernatural since there was no other opening. So the best thing to do was to see what was going on, then o back later fully prepared.

Dean stashed a bottle of holy water in his pocket and his pistol under his waistband. _Just in case._

---

Sam was lying on the floor, trembling and gently sucking his fingers again. He was trying desperately to ignore the sticky substance that was smeared all over his body, but failed miserably.

After the demons were fully sated, they untied him and started to torment him in other ways. They slapped him around and tortured the more intimate parts of his body, laughing as the pitiful creature writhed and sobbed under their ministrations.

They continued for hours, Sam passing out several times to only be woken back up, either by pain or supernatural means. Now they were gone, and Sam sobbed and trembled freely. He forced his mind to stay blank, but the constant reminders of the abuse and degradations kept his awareness clear.

"How is my little whore doing?"

Sam's eyes flickered up to the yellow-eyed demon. He stood over him, once again cloaked. Sam pulled a saliva-soaked hand out of his mouth and looked at the demon fully.

The demon smiled. "You failed all but one of your tests. Now you will be punished and we will work to rectify your mistakes."

Sam's eyes widened in fear as he shook his head, tears forming in his eyes. "N-n-noo..."

The demon's smile faltered. "What did you say?"

Sam sat up and shakily scooted himself back from the demon. He had completely forgotten that he was to be punished for his earlier mistakes. He simply couldn't imagine what the punishment could be, but he wouldn't take anything worse than what he'd already been through. There was something worse? Sam shook his head again. Hed do anything. He'd do whatever the demon wanted. He just couldn't take anymore pain. "M-m-master... pl-leeease..."

The demon growled. He grabbed Sam's arm and yanked him to his feet. A sob erupted from the seventeen-year-old's throat as the demon grabbed his hair and pulled his head back tight.

"Now you listen to me, you pathetic excuse for a lifeform! You would be _nothing_ without me! Nothing ut a used-up whore on the street that no one would even pity fuck! You should be eternally grateful, you whore!"

Sam shakily shook his head, all the while looking at the demon fearfully. "N-n-n-nooo...."

The demon chuckled humorlessly. "And you think you're something _without _me?"

Sam looked blankly in the space behind the demon's shoulder, a small amount of determination shining in his eyes. "D-Deeann..."

The demon snarled as he threw Sam against the wall, a sickening crunch and pain-filled gasp filling the small room.

"I told you never to say his name," the demon said dangerously low. He grabbed Sam's penis and pulled him away from the wall, grabbing his testicles in a vice-grip. Sam screamed as sharp pain shot out from his groin. His sobs echoed pitifully in the dark room as the demon twisted his testicles and said, "Ready for your punishment? 'Cause I promise, it's gonna be a doozy."

---

Dean sighed as he looked up at the small window. _Why do I feel stupid doing this?_ he thought as he placed a large box under the opening and climbed on to it. He braced his arms on the bottom of the window and hoisted himself up.

After looking through the opening and seeing nothing, he decided he should go in and check it out, just in case. _Getting out should be interesting..._ He pulled his feet up and slowly inserted them through the window. Once most of his body was through, he gripped the top of the window and hoisted the rest of his body through, dropping inside.

Dean gagged at the bitter stench. It was hot and humid in the dark room, the bitter smell saturating the air. He dug for his mag light, trying to squint into the darkness and see what might be there. The small window provided almost no light. His fingers brushed the cold metal of the mag light and he pulled it out and twisted it on.

"Oh god..."

A teenager, probably seventeen or eighteen years old, was tied in suspension, almost parallel to the ground. He was completely naked, blindfolded and gagged. His legs and arms were spread out taut, the position humiliating and obviously painful.

Dean was frozen in horror. He had heard of demons and witches and other supernatural beings using humans as slaves or human sacrifices, but he never thought he'd ever see anything so... _brutal_.

A small muffled whimper came from te teen, breaking Dean from his frozen state. He quickly walked up to the teen. "Hey, can you hear me?"

The teen stiffened then trembled. Dean swallowed hard as he got a closer look at the person's condition. He was almost literally skin and bones, the skeletal look alone making the young man look pitiful. But besides that, the teens leg was twisted and stretched grotesquely, his arm was obviously broken. His body was covered in welts, many of the bleeding. But the scars... the dozens of scars from what looked like knives and the large burn scars on his side and arm suggested that this had been this teen's life for months... years. Hell, this could what this teen was raised in.

And Dean found the source of the bitter smell, dripping onto the floor from between his legs, mixed with blood.

Dean swallowed again as he gently removed the teen's gag and blindfold. The teen gasped and whimpered, his lips cracked and covered in dry semen. His sea green eyes were glassy and fearful. He sucked in a sharp breath when his eyes focused on Dean.

"Hey, it's okay..." Dean gripped the young man's neck comfortingly, a strange feeling churning in his chest. "I'm not gonna hurt you."

Instead of being reassured, tears filled the teen's eyes and begun to overflow. "N-noooooo..... p'e-ease...."

"Shh.... it's alright, I'm not gonna hurt you."

But the teen just shook his head. "N-not a-agaaaaiinnn.... pl-leeaasssse...."

Dean gave the teen a look of sympathy. _God, what am I supposed to do...?_

_Well, first thing's first,_ his brain responded. _Get him down._

Dean nodded to himself as he reached for one of the teen's thin ankles and begun to carefully untie it. "Can you tell me your name, kid?"

The teen didn't respond for a moment, his stuttered breathing echoing in the room. Then he quietly said, "D-don' 'a-ave one..."

Dean nodded sadly as he worked on the other ankle. "Can you tell me what did this to you?"

The teen trembled and sobbed, obviously confused and terrified.

Dean sighed as he gently lowered the teen's legs to the ground, trying to ignore the state of his twisted leg. "It's alright, you don't have to tell me." Dean stood in front of the teen and worked on untying his wrists. "I promise, whatever did this to you, they won't do it ever again."

The teen looked up at him and Dean had to keep himself from gasping. The look in the teen's eyes... he couldn't even describe it. But that feeling of familiarity came back and it felt like a punch in the stomach.

Dean focused on tying his wrists, gripping his body and gently lowering him to the ground. The teen automatically curled in on himself, his thin body still shaking. Dean quickly shed his leather jacket and placed it over the young man, trying to save what dignity he might have left.

The teen looked at the leather jacket, as if confused. Then he grabbed it and pulled it off of himself, gripping it tightly to his chest. His hand wandering up into his mouth, he began to gently suck it.

Dean smiled sadly at the display of childish comfort. He looked up at the small window and sighed. "And now to find a way out of here before whatever keeps you here comes back."

* * *

**Sooo...? Review and let me know what you think :) Feed the dragon XD  
**


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: If I owned Supernatural, Sam and Dean would never be allowed to wear shirts  
**

**Dean is 21, almost 22. Sam is 17. (NOT WINCEST!!!)**

**WARNING: mentions violence and sexual assault, non-graphic**

**I've gotta pole on my profile, I'd really like to know what you think.  
**

**Enjoy chapter sixteen!**

* * *

Dean flipped out his cell and called his father. I rang a few times before John answered. "Winchester."

"Dad?"

"Dean. Are you done investigating that 'feeling' of yours?"

"Uh... yeah kinda..."

Dean could picture his father frowning. "Dean, what is it?"

Dean looked at the young man on the floor and sighed. "It's kinda a long story. Basically I'm trapped in a cement room and cant get out 'cause there's no door."

There was silence on the other end of the phone followed by a sigh. "Then how exactly did you get in?"

"A small opening that I can't reach from the inside."

Dean heard his father sigh again. "And you didn't bring anything with you to get out?"

"Well, I really didn't mean to go in in the first place!" It was true. Dean had no real intention of going into the over-sized cinderblock. But as he was looking into the opening, he just had this urge to investigate further. Yes, Dean realizes it was really supremely stupid on his part, but seeing what he found, he didn't regret it.

There was another moment of silence. "Alright, son. Why don't ou tell me what happened. From the beginning."

---

Sam lay there passively as Dean spoke to their father on the phone. So far, this has been the most elaborate illusion the demon has come up with yet.

Sam's punishment consisted of being tied in suspension, blind and gagged. From there he was beaten and raped repeatedly, but who knows who or what. Sam knew the demon used not only his own member, but cold, blunt objects as well. They were brutal fuckings that ripped him into pieces and broke him to his very bones. Not only that, but the demon further humiliated him by sticking a fist up his ass and punching him from the inside, making Sam throw up bitter bile.

After jerking Sam off for the umpteenth, the demon gave Sam another beating. Finally he placed a hand on Sam's head, and left.

For every moment that passed, a new illusion would start. All starting different, all ending the same.

With Dean's death.

After hundreds of never-ending illusions, each one seemingly lasting a lifetime, Sam resigned himself to his final punishment. He tried to make it through every illusion passively. Tried to ignore his brother's last dying screams. But no matter how hard he tried, he felt himself die and break every time.

Sam jumped as Dean placed a hand on his shoulder. Dean quickly brought his hand back, thinking Sam was scared of him. "I'm not gonna hurt you, kid," he said softly.

Sam frowned and looked up at his brother. Dean had never _not_ know him in the previous illusions. It was definitely a new level of elaborateness for the demon.

"My dad's coming to get us outta here." Dean gave a small smile. "How're you feeling, kid?"

Sam knew what Dean was doing. This is what Dean did with survivors of supernatural incidents. It was to help them deal. And they both unconsciously knew it wasn't gonna do much in this instance.

So Sam didn't bother to respond. He wouldn't know what to say anyway. So he continued to suck on his hand and stare into space, wanting to be as detached as possible when Dean finally died again.

Dean sighed. His father was on his way, but he knew that he had to try to get out of there himself in the meantime. Whatever did this to the teen could come back at any moment and he wouldn't be able to do much with only his pistol and holy water.

_What was I thinking? I walked right into a freaking death trap!_ Dean looked at the small window and sighed. He could reach the bottom of it with the tips of his fingers and if he jumped he might be able to get a decent hold and pull himself out.

But the young man... there was no way he would be able to coax him to climb out on his own. Hell, he was so skinny he probably didn't even have the strength to stand at this point. And Dean was definitely _not_ leaving him here alone once again to become victim to whatever kept him here.

Dean next to the teen and sighed as he leaned against the wall. His father wouldn't get there until the next afternoon at the earliest so now all he could really do is keep guard and wait.

"You should try and get some sleep, kid. Try and let your body heal up."

He didn't seem to hear Dean, but soon Dean could hear the young man's breathing even out as he fell asleep.

Dean spent a few moments examining the young man's body. It was like something out of a horror film. A body so thin Dean could easily count every rib and vertebrae, scars old and new covering every inch of his body, and the blood and semen that still leaked out of the teen's rectum in a slow, steady stream.

The young man's face was the worst. Swollen and bloody, no doubt from many beatings, gaunt and thin. Despite the young man's age, he looked impossibly young. Like a lost little kid who thinks love is a hard hand from an abusive parent.

And _cue, _that familiar feeling was back. Niggling him from the back of his mind. Something about this whole situation, about this _kid_, was making the familiar feeling more for frequent.

Oh, and another problem. What was Dean going to do with this guy when they finally got out of here? Somehow, just dumping him at the local hospital seems kind of cruel, considering what he's been through. If this life is all this guy knew, then he'd probably be in the looney bin for the rest of his life. But then again, what other life could this kid have? Chances are his family's long gone and his knowledge of the supernatural and his abuse will probably make it impossible for this guy to have any semblance of a normal life.

Dean sighed. _I guess I'll just have to cross that bridge when I get there_.

---

Fanny was going for her morning run through the neighborhood, wearing her short shorts and exercise bra, all the while, pop music blasting through her headphones.

As she made her way down the street, her mind barely recalled the empty lot at the end. Her friend, Emily, had lived there. That is, until Emily's mother died in her sister's nursery, burning the place down. No one's bothered to rebuild on the lot since.

Fanny paused in front of the empty lot to catch her breath. She gave a small smile as she looked at it, remembering her old friend.

Then she froze.

In the middle of the empty lot, two men were seemingly sleeping. But one of them was completely naked and looked like he was just run through a grinder.

"What the _hell_ are you doing here!?" Fanny screeched. She was _not _gonna let some freak hobos taint the memory of her friend. She picked up a rock and threw it at them.

Sam gasped awake at the sound of someone screaming. Suddenly a rock come from nowhere and hit Sam's shoulder hard. Sam gasped and dropped Dean's leather jacket, and put his arms over his head in fear. His body trembled hard against the hard earth.

When Dean first heard the scream, he thought some couple might be having a disagreement outside the motel room. But when he rolled over to only feel hard, crumbling dirt underneath him, his eyes snapped open. "What?"

"Get outta here, you fucking hobos!"

Dean sat up in confusion. "What the hell...?!" A rock narrowly missed Dean's head, causing him to curse. "The hell you doing, lady!"

"I should as you and the freak the same!"

Dean frowned. _What?_ When he hear a small whimper, Dean remembered. _Oh right, the kid._ He looked around him in confusion. _What happened to the cinder block?_

The girl threw another rock, hitting the young man square in the head, making him cry out in pain. "Stop it!" Dean yelled. He grabbed his leather jacket and covered him the best he could. "Can't you tell he's hurt!?"

"I don't give a fuck if he's the president of the homeowners association! Just take the freak and leave!"

Dean made a face. _Homeowners association? What the fuck?_ Dean just shook his head and gently grabbed the young man's thin shoulders. "Hey, kid. We need to go now, okay?"

Sam looked up at his brother fearfully. He didn't understand what was going on, what he'd done wrong. Did this girl know what he did back in Simmonsville? Did she know about what happened? "Th-they a-a-all f-f-fell..." Sam whimpered.

Dean gave a sad sigh. He turned to the girl and said, "We're leaving, just give us a minute."

"Fine," Fanny said. "But hurry up or I'm calling the police!"

_It's not like we're doing anything wrong_, Dean said. Nevertheless, he grabbed one of the young man's arms so he could help him up when the young man whimpered and weakly tried to pull his arm away. "N-n-no... p'ease... n-n-not ag-gaaaiinn...."

"I'm not gonna hurt you," Dean insisted. "But we need to go."

The young man looked up at Dean with that look again, the one that took Dean's breath away and left him reeling. _Who are you?_

"A-_hem!"_

Dean glared at the girl. "Will you keep your panties on!? We're going as fast as we can!"

"What's going on?" A middle-aged man walked up, giving Dean and the young man a look of something akin to disgust.

"These men are trespassing and won't leave!" the girl practically screeched.

_Oh great_, Dean thought bitterly.

The man placed a hand on the girl's shoulders. "Go home, Fanny. I'll take care of it."

Fanny gave Dean a glare, but nodded. "Thanks, Steve."

"We're _leaving," _Dean insisted. He turned back to the young man, trying to coax him into standing.

Steve scoffed and walked up to them. "Listen, we don't want _filth_ in our neighborhood. You'll lower our property values and I won't let that happen."

Dean couldn't believe what he was hearing_. Property values?! You must be kidding me!_

"Don't worry," Dean spat. "We're leaving, _now_." Dean quickly grabbed the young man, and yanked him into standing position. The young man screamed and whimpered, his breathing quickened and fearful. He was clutching desperately at Dean, trying to keep himself from falling. _Sorry, kid,_ Dean thought guiltily. _But if we don't leave now, things'll turn ugly for both of us._ Dean walked at a responsibly fast pace, but tried to make sure the young man wasn't dragging his on the ground.

_God I hate small towns._

* * *

**Okay, for those of you who are offended about the homeowners association (HOA) thing, please don't take it personally. The HOA in my neighborhood are all jerks, though, hence my hatred of them. When i was little, there was an autistic child, and the president of the homeowners association would always make rude comments about him and kept her children away from him as if he had some sort of disease. Also, what Steve said to Dean about filth and property values, that's verbatim from what a member of HOA said to my mother.  
**

**So I apologize to anyone i may have offended, this was totally based off of personal experience and not meant for the association as a whole.  
**

**Sooo...? Review and let me know what you think :) Feed the dragon XD  
**


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: If I owned Supernatural, Sam and Dean would never be allowed to wear shirts  
**

**Dean is 21, almost 22. Sam is 17. (NOT WINCEST!!!)**

**OMG! It's been almost a month since I updated this! I'm sooooo sorry! I can't tell you how much of a bitch school has been! :P**

**this chapter's a little shorter, but I have a headache so... (i'll try not to wait a month to update again :P)  
**

**Enjoy chapter seventeen!**

* * *

Quickly laying the young man in the back of the impala, Dean slid into the driver's seat and quickly drove off, wanting to get away from the deranged neighbors. Though Dean had placed his jacket over him again, the young man was grasping it to his chest again, his free hand back in his mouth. He was curled up in the smallest ball he could manage, his twisted leg still straight along the back seat. There was a small trickle of blood trailing down the side of his face where the rock hit his head. His eyes were wandering around slowly, but were still filled with fear.

Dean looked up in his rearview mirror, adjusting it so he can see the hapless man in the back. His eyes were unconsciously attracted to the many blemishes that covered his skeletal body. _How is this kid even conscious?  
_  
The young man's wandering eyes met Dean's in the rearview mirror. He still looked fearful but he also looked confused. Maybe even hopeful.

"It's gonna be okay, kid," Dean tried to assure, turning his eyes back to the road, hoping he wasn't making an empty promise. "It's gonna be okay..." he repeated quietly.

---

"Father?"

"Yes, my daughter."

"Are you just gonna let the boy go!? After all we went through to get him ready!?"

"Exactly," the yellow eyed demon said. "Sam is ready now. Nothing can stop what's been put into motion. I'll leave the brother's be for now. See where this road takes them." He turned to his daughter and frowned. "And when are you gonna leave that meatsuit! It's disturbing to see you in one of those males."

His daughter smirked. "What can I say? I'd rather do the fucking rather than be fucked."

---

Dean pulled up to the motel, quickly turning the ignition off and running up to the door to unlock and open it. Then he ran back to the car and opened the back door. "Kid?"

Sam looked up at his brother, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. Ever since he woke up to the girl yelling at him, he started to doubt his original assumptions. Why did this feel different than the demon's illusions? Could it possibly be real? Sam pulled out his saliva coated hand and gripped Dean's shirt. _Was Dean really here?_

Dean looked at the boy with something akin to pity, but didn't unlatch the young man's hand from his shirt. "We need to get inside the motel now, okay? I'm gonna try and patch you up as best I can."

Sam looked into his brother's eyes, trying to see a single spark of recognition, but found none. Disappointed, Sam looked downward, his grip on Dean's shirt tightening. _God, I don't know what's real anymore!_

The young man started to cry, and Dean found himself at a loss. _Oh god, what do I do now?_ "Hey... kid, it's okay." He bent down and scooted next to the man, carefully placing an arm over the young man's bony shoulders.

When Dean sat next to him and put an arm around him, Sam felt himself break inside. The sobs broke out harder as Sam buried his face into Dean's chest and sobbed, gripping Dean's shirt and probably his skin as well. And Dean _let him_. Didn't complain or push him away.

"Deeeeaaann..." Sam whimpered, desperate for his brother's comfort.

Dean froze. He looked down at the sobbing young man against his chest. "What id you say?"

Sam didn't seem to hear him. Instead, he continued to sob in his brother's embrace, not noticing his little slip.

Confusing assaulting him, Dean pushed the young man away, ignoring his distressed cry. Keeping a firm grip on his arms, Dean looked directly into the young man's red rimmed eyes. "How do you know my name?"

Sam looked at his brother through his tears, a fresh wave of sobs building up. "Pl-leeeaasse…" he sobbed.

Dean frowned in confusion. "Okay... let's get you inside and patched up... then we'll work our way from there, deal?"

Sam wasn't quite sure what Dean was saying, but he quickly nodded, the motion exaggerated and almost childish. "'K-kaaayy..."

Dean nodded, more to himself than to the young man, as he slowly slid out of the car, keeping a careful grip on the ailing man. Grabbing one of his arms, Dean carefully lifted the man out of the car. As soon as his feet were solidly on the ground, he slowly led the still sobbing man to the motel room, his twisted leg collapsing out from under him every few steps.

Once they were inside the motel room, Dean carefully sat the man down on the bed, his twisted leg automatically coming up to rest next to him in the bed. But when he let go to get the medical kit, the man frantically grabbed Dean's shirt. "No, no, no, no, no! Pl-leeeeaase don' leeeeave meee...!" he sobbed.

Dean gently grabbed the man's hands, unhooking them from his shirt. "It's okay. I'm just getting the medical kit so I can patch you up, okay? Maybe get you some clothes while I'm at it?"

The man looked down, as if just noticing that he was naked. But instead of covering himself up, he sat back on the bed and spread his legs, looking at Dean expectantly.

There was something disturbingly familiar about that pose, and it made Dean quickly turning away, suppressing his gag reflex. "Let me get you a spare blanket or something..." Dean mumbled.

He opened the closet in search for something to cover the man when pain exploded behind his eyes. Gasping loudly, Dean fell to the floor, his head feeling like it was split open and someone was pouring lava in it.

"D-Dean!" a panicked voice said in the distance. Moments later, a pair of hands were on his shoulders, the touch igniting fire under his skin. Dean moaned and gasped as pure pain invaded all his senses, leaving him in a world separate from the distant sobbing and desperate hands.

"Deeeeeaan!" Sam screamed. He shook his brother's shoulders hard, trying to get a reaction out of him. Instead Dean just screwed his eyes shut and curled into fetal position. "Pl-lease! W-wake UP!" Sam shook Dean harder, gripping him compulsively.

Suddenly Dean's eyes snapped open, his body stiffening. A moment later, his body relaxed, tough it still shook, trying to recover from the overload of his pain sensors.

"D-Deeeann..." Sam whimpered hesitantly, hoping Dean wouldn't fall into another fit.

Dean looked up at Sam, his eyes slightly glazed. Frowning a little, he swallowed and rasped out, "Sammy?"

Sam fervently nodded, bending down to hold his brother in a bone-crushing embrace. "Y-y-you ok-kaaay...?

Confused, Dean wrapped his arms around the 6 foot trembling mass. "Y-yeah... I-I think..."

Then Dean noticed just how thin the 6 foot mass was.

"Sammy?!" Dean pulled back from the embrace, holding him out at arm's length. He took a moment to look at Sam's body, and to his horror, Sam's current state resembled how Dean found him four years ago. And what made him especially angry, was his swollen and red groin, telling of his abuse. "Oh, god... what happened!?"

Sam looked at his brother through tear-filled eyes. "I... couldn't... not _you_..."

Suddenly Dean remembered Sam making a deal with the _thing_ that killed his mother. His life for his family's. "Oh god, Sammy...!" Dean pulled Sam back into a tight embrace. He could feel his brother's painfully thin body shake in his arms, his shoulder slowly getting wet. "I gotcha now..." Dean said almost panicked, rubbing his hands up and down Sam's arms. "It's okay... I gotcha, I gotcha..."

* * *

**Sooo...? Review and let me know what you think :) Feed the dragon XD**


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: If I owned Supernatural, Sam and Dean would never be allowed to wear shirts  
**

**Dean is 21, almost 22. Sam is 17. (NOT WINCEST!!!)**

**I"M SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY! I've been sooooo busy T^T**

**This chapter's kinda short.... I PROMISE I'll try to make the next chap longer :P  
**

**Enjoy chapter eighteen!**

* * *

"C'mon, c'mon..." John growled.

_This is Mark Shepello_, Dean's voice said. _Leave a message._

"Damn it!" John snapped his cell shut, focusing on driving. It was no more than an hour ago that he was researching the new hunt when a migraine of _epic_ proportions hit him. And as soon as it was over...

_He remembered_.

Sam, his son, giving himself in exchange for his family, had been repaid with his family straight-out _forgetting_ about him. Regardless that it was supernaturally influenced.

Dean had found him though. In where ever they were stuck, Dean had found his brother. He _knew_ something was wrong and stayed to investigate it, probably inadvertently saving his brother in the process. But by the sounds of it, Sam was bad off. Dean said he looked like someone who'd been tortured in every possible way.

John gripped his steering wheel with a death grip. First that damn demon kills his wife and ruins his son, and now he takes his illegitimate son, who's already been through hell, and tortures him! Oh, when John finally gets his hands on that son of a bitch... there won't even be enough evidence left for even suspicion.

When John finally arrived, it was late in the afternoon. Worry egging him on, he ran to the motel room, throwing the door open. "Sam! Dean!"

Sam looked up from his spot on the bed with eyes wide with fear. He minutely cowered away from John, not realizing who it was.

"S-Sam!" John said breathlessly. Closing the door behind him, he approached the startled teen. "Oh my god, are you okay!?"

Sam frowned a little, shying away from the man. "I-I don'…"

It was then that John finally _looked_ at Sam. Sam was wearing sweats and a t-shirt that were much too big for him, probably Dean's. He was emaciated, his bones sticking out sharply from underneath his skin. His left arm was in a homemade splint, Sam cradling the arm close to his body. He was extremely pale, his pallor abnormal and sickly looking. His eyes were red-rimmed and had bags under them.

All in all, he looked like he'd been through hell.

"Oh, god, Sammy…"

As John approached him, Sam's breathing quickened and he panicked. Throwing himself back, he quickly grabbed at his clothes, trying to remove them.

"Sammy, no!" John said panicky. Seeing himself as the problem, John yelled for his son.

Not a moment later, Dean burst out from the bathroom, a towel hanging low on his waist. "Dad?!" Dean said surprised. Then he saw Sam and what he was trying to do. "What happened?!" Dean half-yelled as he approached his brother to comfort him.

"I-I scared him," John stuttered out, stating the obvious. "Dean, do you…?"

"Yeah…" Dean said as he wrapped his arms around his brother and pulled his sweats back up. "I remember."

Sam's breathing was hitched, he struggled a little, but Dean's strong arms kept him in place. "Deeeaannn…" he whimpered.

"Shh… it's okay, Sammy… Dad's here now, see?"

"D-Dad…?" Sam said in question, looking back up at John. "Dad?"

John smiled as he sat on the bed next to his sons. "Yeah, Sammy… it's me."

Slowly leaning forward, Sam left his brother's embrace in order to lean against his father's chest, an arm snaking around to grip his back. The sudden memory of what the demon showed Sam drew a sob from him. "Daaad..."

John blinked as his vision blurred. "It's okay, Sammy... We're here now," John looked at Dean, and the young man gave a confident nod. "...and we're not leaving you."

---

"What do we do now?" Dean asked.

Sam had fallen sleep under the care of his family, Dean placing Sam under the covers and tucking him in for some much needed rest.

"We hunt that son of a bitch down and burn his ass," John growled.

Dean wholeheartedly agreed with his father, but his logical side said differently. "But that's what got us in this situation. We went after the demon, therefore he got to Sam and..." Dean couldn't bring himself to even say it.

John sighed. "But we can't just _leave _him out there..."

"Sammy needs us," Dean said determined. "I wanna salt and burn that bitch as much as you do, but I'm not leaving Sam alone and we sure the hell cant take him with us. If Sam was screwed up before, that _god_ I don't want to imagine what he's like now. I doubt we'll even be able to get Sam to do _anything_ on his own accord anymore, and you want to go after _revenge!?_ Revenge isn't gonna help him, Dad!"

John closed his eyes and sighed, knowing his son was right but the need to _kill_ something burning in his chest. "I know... it's just..."

"Dad, I understand," Dean said. "you have _no_ idea how much I wanna hunt that bastard, for what he did to Mom and Sammy. But we can't. It'll just make Sam worse."

John sighed and slowly nodded. "Agreed." He looked over at Sam and sighed. "In that case, I think we should head to Bobby's. We'll leave tomorrow morning."

Dean nodded. "Alright."

They quickly got ready for bed, both exhausted from the emotionally-charged day. As John turned off the lights and climbed into his own bed, Dean crawled into the bed and laid next to his brother. Sam was shaking slightly and his body was tensed. His fingers remained firmly in his mouth as he subconsciously scooted closer to Dean, pressing himself against his big brother's warmth. As Dean wrapped an arm around his brother, he could feel Sam's body relax a little and the shaking calm down a bit.

"I've gotcha," Dean barely whispered as he curled up with his six foot four brother. "You're safe now."

* * *

**Sooo...? Review and let me know what you think :) Feed the dragon XD**


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